


Somebody to Love

by deepspaceprincess



Series: Somebody to Loveverse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Characters, Bi!Clint, Captain America Steve/ Modern Bucky, Coming Out, Cooking, Domestic, Eating in bed, F/M, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Modern Bucky, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pierced Steve, Polyamorous Character, Shrunkyclunks, Tattooed Characters, bi!bucky, bucky gets slipped something at a club but nothing happens, bucky is kinda commanding in bed, but steve is A-ok with it, chef!bucky, discussion of Steve crashing the Valkarie, gay!steve, kinda slow burn, mentions of period typical homophobia, non-Winter Soldier Bucky, pierced Bucky, pierced characters, piercings all over the place, very slight d/s undertones if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepspaceprincess/pseuds/deepspaceprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha sets Steve up with at home cooking lessons when he botches Sunday night dinner. Steve isn't actually that reluctant, especially when his teacher is so easy on the eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the quote: "Foods a lot better, we used to boil everything".
> 
> Unbeta'd, just me reading it through so pardon any mistakes. 
> 
> The relationships between any characters besides Steve and Bucky are mentioned mostly in passing. There is mention of Steve and non-descriptive men in the past, but nothing more than that.  
> 

 

_"You don't have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces- just good food from fresh ingredients." - Julia Child_

 

It was all thanks to his shitty cooking.

-

 

“ _Steve_ ,” Natasha hissed, poking the steaming green lump on her plate, “What the fuck are you trying to feed us?”

It was Sunday night and the lot of them had taken to getting together, usually they ordered take out, but Steve had been determined to cook that night. Nobody, least of all Steve, realized how terrible of an idea that was.

“Is this plain chicken? Steve, did you put any spices on this chicken?” Sam went on, poking the dry looking chicken breast on his own plate.

“I used salt and pepper.” Steve admitted, thinking that was enough.

He and his Ma had been _lucky_ to have salt for food.

“Jesus man, you realize my grandma is from the South? She'd come back from the dead and beat my ass if I ate this.”

“It's not that we don't appreciate the effort dude,” Clint offered, sheepishly pushing his food away from him, “But I think I'm gonna order a pizza.”

Natasha, God bless her, at least tried her food, chewing thoughtfully on the chicken, before giving Steve a soft look, which was never a good thing coming from her.

“Oh Steve, this is terrible.”

It's not like it was Steve's fault he couldn't cook. Food back when he was growing up was all boiled, no one could afford to buy spices, over half the time they couldn't even afford meat. Steve _knew_ there were websites and videos that taught people how to cook, but he could never figure them out. Everything looked so damn complicated. Regardless of how long he had been awake now, Steve was still having a hard time adjusting and food had been the last of his worries when it was so easy to just order it now a days.

 

Clint and Sam were in the living room, eating the pizza that had been delivered, Steve was watching the television from his spot at the breakfast bar that split his slip of a kitchen and the open space living room. Natasha slid into the seat next to his as he finished off the last plate of food, he hadn't seen a use in letting it go to waste.

“We didn't mean to be insensitive,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I know. I don't know what I was thinking, I mean, we literally used to boil everything, I was lucky most months to be able to get protein,” Steve sighed.

“Why don't you get cooking lessons then?” Natasha asked, which actually caught his attention.

“What?”

“Yeah, they have classes for cooking and I'm sure if you don't wanna go do it in public that there are private hire companies.”

She had pulled out her phone by the time she was done speaking, tapping away on it, Steve's own phone was sitting on his bedside table, since anyone he would need to contact was in his apartment. It was a short couple of minutes before she triumphantly set the phone on the counter between them.

“There you go, this company sends a chef to your house to teach you to cook! They even have levels, see, you can select beginner.”

The two of them looked as they scrolled through the reviews, which raved about the meals made easy. A beginner's course taught the basics of cooking and pairing foods, as well as how to use spices and different techniques for cooking; frying, baking, broiling, pan sear, none of it made much sense to Steve.

“This company is pretty high profile too it looks like, so I'm sure they won't be thrown by someone with a little bit of a celebrity status, no worries of some star struck person invading your space,” Natasha urged, elbowing him in the ribs.

Steve looked through the page, the lessons could be canceled at any time, but were generally twice a week, the beginner's course lasting four weeks.

“This actually looks like it might be fun,” he murmured, glancing over at Natasha.

“I can set it up for you.” she offered, a small smile appearing.

“Sure,” he shrugged, “Why not?”

-

After Natasha finished the sign up, Steve received an email, it laid out the course and what he'd learn to do. There was a schedule that set out ingredients that would be needed for each lesson, so that he could have the right things in his kitchen when the time came. It called for a lot of utensils and pans that Steve didn't have, his cupboards being pretty bare, even after living in the apartment for almost a year (again, take out). He and Natasha sat for a couple of hours ordering all of the kitchen gadgets he would need off of Amazon.

They were delivered three days later and Steve unpackaged them all, buzzing with excitement.

 

Steve stood in the middle of his apartment, hands on his hips. He had given the place a cleaning up, not that it was really messy to begin with. The apartment had been one he had picked out, but SHIELD had vetted it, before they came crumbing down. At first the furniture had been picked out by SHIELD also, but at the recommendation of Sam, it had all been replaced with things that Steve wanted. It had transformed from something that looked like it belonged in a Better Homes magazine, so something a little more homey (not that that meant it felt like _home_ ).

The apartment was set right by the bay, in Brooklyn Heights. It had two bedrooms, one his and one he had turned into a studio for when he eventually decided to sit down to paint again. The living room was a large open space, the back wall being completely taken up by a floor to ceiling bookshelf. The wall that the kitchen (which was admittedly small compared to the rest of the place) was set into was bare brick and the floors were hard wood. He had filled it with darker toned furniture that was much less modern looking than what had been in the place to begin with.

All in all, he actually loved the place now, but was still giving it a critical eye as he waited for the chef to arrive for his first cooking lesson. The only people that had been in his apartment were the Avengers, and they had all helped him decorate the place, so the place had a little touch from all of them in it. Steve wondered idly, what a stranger would think of the place and how it would reflect on him.

Mostly he was just nervous about the whole thing in general and was projecting it weirdly. He was a grown man and was going to be getting cooking lessons. How sad was that?

 

The doorbell went off at exactly five'o clock on the dot, since his apartment had a front desk, which was in charge of the comings and going of guests, Steve didn't actually have to buzz anyone in. He just had to let the front desk know who he was expecting, unless they were regulars, like Natasha and the gang, who had passes.

He padded across the room, having opted not to wear shoes (only socks), because he usually didn't at home (he had also changed six times before settling on a pair of worn jeans and a plain grey v-neck) and didn't even bother to check the peep hole before nervously yanking the door open.

 

The man on the other side was devastating.

 

“Evenin' Captain Rogers, I'm James Barnes, I'll be the chef providing your lessons,” the man, James, provided, sticking a hand out in-between the two of them with no hesitation.

Steve had to take a minute to compose himself, before absently taking the offered had.

“Uh, right, um. You can call me Steve,” was all he managed.

James was smiling at him and Steve was unsure if he had ever seen such a gorgeous man in his life; he was almost as tall as Steve, but probably several pounds shy of him. Which wasn't to say he wasn't built, because he was, James was thick in a way that differed from Steve's own physic. Even in the casual black jeans and henley that he wore, Steve could tell that there were cords of muscles just below the clothing.

And boy wouldn't he love to see them in person.

“All right, Steve it is,” James said, making Steve realize they were still standing in the doorway.

“Oh! Sorry, please, come in,” he offered, moving out of the way and holding the door open.

James walked in like he had been in Steve's apartment a thousand times, slipping his own shoes off and adjusting the bag that was slung over his shoulder.

“Care to show me to the kitchen?” James asked, seemingly unaware of how beautiful his smile was.

Steve led the way around the small wall that cordoned off the entryway and mumbled a soft “here” as he gestured to the small kitchen. The whole time James was taking in the apartment, able to see the whole of the living room from where they were, his stormy blue (Steve sounded like a fucking _teenager_ ) eyes roving over the space before letting out a low whistle.

“Nice digs.”

“Uh, thanks, sorry if the kitchen is a little small, it wasn't a big deciding factor for me when I was picking the place.”

James just waved him off, setting the bag down on the breakfast bar, “No big deal, I've worked with way worse, trust me.”

“Did you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, because even struck dumb by the man's looks, he was a good host.

After humming to himself, taking a few things Steve didn't recognize out of the bag, James nodded, “Water would be great actually, thanks.”

Steve poured them each a glass, downing most of his own in a few seconds, hoping to pull himself together. He was around attractive people all day, James should be no different.

“You got everything on the list for the first lesson, right?” James asked, after thanking him for the drink.

“Yup, it's in the fridge. Plus I bought out Amazon of its kitchen section.”

That got James to laugh, which, yeah, he wanted to happen a lot more.

“Awesome, let's get started then.”

-

James was a terrific teacher, his calm voice lulling Steve out of his nerves about the whole situation. They had started by talking about what Steve did know kitchen wise (not a lot) and then moved on to what he wanted to get out of the lessons.

“I guess I just want to be able to cook for myself and my friends. I don't need anything fancy.” he said, leaning on the counter across from James.

“Well that's perfect, because we aren't going to get anywhere _near_ fancy with the beginner lessons. We'll focus on teaching you the basics, how to chop, how to flavor things, stuff like that.”

“I looked at the recipes for the meals that are planned out, they don't look too hard. My biggest issue is being overwhelmed when I try to learn via the internet. I'd have to Google things just to know what I needed to prep something and it freaked me out.”

James smiled at him from where he was standing opposite Steve in the crowded space.

“A lot of people are intimidated by cooking, it's nothing out of the ordinary. We're gonna start small, that's why fish is the first meal, baking is pretty easy, we can set it and forget it while you learn how to saute vegetables.”

 

They did just that, James hardly touched the food, instead standing by, instructing Steve how to flavor the fish with lemon juice and pepper, adding a sprig of thyme to the fillets before putting them to the side while they started on the veggies.

“The problem is, fish cooks pretty quickly, so we don't want to put it in before we start on the stove, this will give the spices time to set into the meat though,” James explained, pulling his own cutting board and knives out of the bag.

Steve learned next how to chop an onion in order to caramelize it and then learned what caramelizing was. While the onion was cooking in butter James walked him through cutting zucchini and dicing mushrooms. By the time all of the vegetables were cooking, Steve felt much more comfortable; James was leaning against the counter to his left, watching over the saucepan along with Steve.

“You'll know when the zucchini is ready when it looks kinda watery,” James told Steve, pointing to one piece in particular, “The mushrooms cook the quickest, which is why we added them last.”

“This seems like a lot of timing strategy.” Steve mumbled, glancing at the timer for the salmon.

“It is, but it's something that comes with practice, soon you won't have to think about what to start when. Plus, if something gets done too fast, you can always leave it on warm so it doesn't cool, but won't overcook.”

Steve was looking at the pan in front of him, realizing that there was a lot of food there, even for himself, but he had bought what he was instructed to.

“Are you going to stay and eat this with me?” Steve asked, turning to look at James, who flushed slightly.

“Usually we stay and eat with our students, but I don't have to. A lot of people like to review the lesson while we eat. Plus you have me until seven.”

“That's perfectly fine. It'll be nice not to eat alone,” he said, looking back down at the food cooking in front of him.

 

When the timer for the fish went off the pan of veggies had been sitting on the warm burner for only a minute or two. Steve pulled down plates and served the food, setting them up at the breakfast bar. He was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted really good.

“We did a good job,” Steve pointed out, smiling brightly at James.

“ _You_ did a good job. I hardly touched anything.” James pointed out, smirking.

“Like I could have done this without you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as they ate, Steve doing his best to inconspicuously take in more of James as they did. The other man had pushed his sleeves up over the course of the lesson, revealing a plethora of tattoos up both arms. The art looked like things he had seen back in the forties, designs that were often worn by the Sailors coming to and fro in port off the Naval Vessels. His hair was obviously long, since it was pulled back into a bun smack in the middle of the back of James' head, it looked soft to Steve and he wanted to card his fingers through it.

Steve was no stranger to being attracted to men, he had learned at a young age that he was gay, it was just not something that was discussed in his day. It was that reason that he had never really _looked_ at a man like he was James. Steve felt a little guilty, feeling like he was ogling the other man, but he was just so handsome and Steve yearned to know more about him.

“So, how did you get into this sort of thing?” Steve asked, finally breaking the silence.

James smiled a secret sort of smile, “Well, I did the whole culinary school thing and even worked in a ritzy restaurant for a while, but I found I didn't really like it. It was actually sort of upsetting, because I had been so sure that cooking was what I wanted to do.”

Steve was glad he had asked, because now he had a reason to actually look at James, instead of just try to peer at him out of the corners of his eyes. The two had both turned slightly so they were facing each other a bit. James paused to chew a bit before continuing.

“Anyway, my sister actually kicked my ass into gear, suggesting I teach cooking instead. The problem with that was most teachers at schools are big wig guys who have worked in the industry for _years_. So that was disappointment number two,” he was gesturing with his fork as he spoke, before stabbing another bit of fish and shoving it into his mouth.

“Now to the good part,” he joked, laughing lightly, “A friend of mine owns the company I work for and jumped at me the moment he found out I was sort of floating. He told me he wanted to try doing in home lessons, since so far he just ran classes at the facility he ran. The whole thing took off way quicker than we thought it would. We teach a lot of new housewives of like, rich politicians and stuff, sometimes mother-daughter lessons. I love it, teaching regular people how to do the basics, giving them that foundation, I feel like I found my calling you know? But uh, I'm rambling, sorry.”

Steve shook his head slowly, finishing the food he was chewing, “Don't apologize, it's awesome to know that you really enjoy what you do. I sure as hell appreciate it and my friends probably do more.”

James laughed again, this time more fully, “Yeah, the scary red-head told me about your chicken breasts.”

“Oh god, I hope she wasn't totally inappropriate,” Steve sighed, feeling his face heat up.

Natasha had an issue with her filter sometimes.

“Nah, not really at least. I mean, she totally did this deep background check on me when she decided she wanted me to do the lessons. I get why though, so it's not a huge deal.”

“God I'm sorry.”

“Steve, really,” James started, setting his fork down on his now empty plate, “It wasn't a big deal, we've had checks run on us left and right, but you know, if you _really_ feel bad, maybe you'll let me look at your books? I've been drooling over that bookshelf since I walked in.”

“Oh! Please, help yourself, that's rude of me, you're not restricted to the kitchen or anything.”

James straight out beamed, sliding off his stool and bouncing over to the large bookshelf since he had permission. Steve took their plates and brought them around to the sink, watching James look over his books as he started rinsing the dishes off to put into the dishwasher (one of his all time favorite things about the future).

“There's a lot of history books.” James said offhandedly, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“Oh yeah, I had a lot to catch up on. Some stuff I was content enough to read about in passing, but there was a lot I wanted more information on.”

Steve tracked James as he moved from the shelves with books to the ones closest to the edge that held his records, the record player sat next to it in front of one of the apartment's large windows. Sam had bought him the player and started his record collection, giving him some older musicians while introducing him to newer ones as well. James was idly pulling the sleeves out to read them, before sliding them back into place.

“Do you have any Queen?” he asked, padding back to the kitchen.

Steve had most of the dishes in the washer by then, so James hopped back onto the stool he had vacated.

“Who?”

“Oh _Steve,_ have none of your friends shown you Queen?”

“It appears they haven't.”

“For shame,” James teased, shaking his head, a playful smile pulling at his lips, “Bring the scary red head back around, I'm going to have words with her.”

That got Steve to laugh, deep from his belly in a way he didn't often do.

“Music has been one of the things that's sorta fell to the wayside, I was more concerned with catching up on history and technology, which, honestly, I feel like I'll never get up to speed on.”

“I can't even imagine, it must be odd, I mean, my generation has had some of the quickest advancements technology wise, sometimes I feel like it's tough to keep up myself.”

Steve shrugged, “I've pretty much resigned myself to be at least a little lost at this point.”

James hummed to himself, his eyes getting far off for a moment before he pulled himself back into the present.

“Well, hopefully I'll help you feel less lost in the kitchen at least.”

“You don't have to worry too much about that, I already feel more confident standing in my own kitchen than I did before you got here.” Steve assured him, gaining himself another blinding smile.

-

 

Natasha was one of Steve's closest friends, sure, Clint was great, and Sam was his running buddy, but there was something about how Natasha had been there from the beginning, pushing Steve through the twenty-first century, that had him trusting her without a doubt. As it were, he still hadn't come out to her, he hadn't come out to anyone, ever (unless you count the guys whose dicks Steve sucked, which he doesn't, so). In the forties being gay was basically a death sentence with Steve's stature and then once he was big and in the Army he was _in charge_ of people. Men may have looked the other way if the Corporals were finding comfort in each other, but not if their Captain was. Then, once he arrived in the twenty-first century and it was legal, Steve was just so used to keeping it to himself that the thought never really crossed his mind.

Until now.

Because he _really_ wanted to gush about James to someone.

 

He knew that they wouldn't care, hell, he was entirely sure there was some sort of polyamorous relationship between Bruce, Tony and Pepper, not that he'd dare to ask. So, when Natasha gave him a look the next day over breakfast at the Tower, he didn't really fight her that much.

 

“How'd your cooking lesson go?” Sam asked, entirely innocent.

Steve knew he blushed, because he had immediately thought about James and his thick thighs, his tattoo clad arms, his boyish grin.

“Good, the instructor, James, he's nice.”

Cue Natasha, she looked up from her bagel in one smooth motion, her eyes clearly seeing straight into Steve's soul.

“Just nice? I mean, I did pick him myself, he's pretty charming,” she had the most knowing look on her face and all Steve could think about was when had he given himself away.

Steve knew he was among people he could trust, he knew none of them would care and he was frankly tired of Natasha trying to set him up with women. Granted, coming out meant she would probably try to set him up with men, but if it was one particular man, Steve couldn't bring himself to be too upset.

“He is charming, you maybe could have given me a warning that you were sending sex on legs to my apartment.”

He probably could have gone about it a different way, but it was more satisfying to see their faces by dropping the bomb.

Clint gaped, Sam smiled, and Natasha actually fist pumped (because the thing about Nat was that she might pretend to be an emotionless robot, but around people she knew, she was playful).

“I _knew it_ ,” she crowed, pointing a finger at Sam, “I told you he was checking you out!”

“What?!” Steve coughed, “I was not, I have never!”

Sam just put a hand on Steve's shoulder, “It's cool man, I totally know when I'm being checked out. I'm flattered, really.”

Steve covered his face with his hands, “Oh my God, you _guys_!”

Clint was still sitting there, looking a little like a fish.

“I love being right,” Nat breathed, smiling. “Steve, you could have told us sooner.”

He shrugged, waiting for Sam to snap Clint out of whatever personal crisis he seemed to be having.

“It was never a big deal, I wasn't worried about finding a partner in the midst of all that bullshit we were dealing with.”

“So uh,” Clint started, “Is it just men?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm gay. Always have been.”

“James is so your type too, huh?” Nat asked, elbowing his ribs.

Steve hummed to himself, chewing the bacon he had shoveled into his mouth.

“I'd really appreciate you _not_ trying to help out Nat. Just because I have a little crush on the guy doesn't mean I'm going to try to make anything of it. It's just nice to, you know, be out, at least a little.”

They all congratulated him, which made Steve a little warm inside, that this was something they would be proud of him for being able to tell them.

“Oh, also, don't tell Tony about James.”

-

 

The lessons were every Tuesday and Thursday, which meant there was only a day between Steve meeting James for the first time and having to come to terms with the fact that, yes, he did indeed have a _crush_ on the guy. Like a teenager. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying, because Steve had never allowed himself to have a crush on someone before. He had frequented a couple of queer bars back in the day, so he wasn't completely inexperienced, but after suffering a rather intense beating one night getting caught walking out of the wrong place, he had steered clear (contrary to popular belief he didn't  _actually_  have a death wish).

Still, the men that he fooled around with in the forties were never people he had let himself feel for, they were a means of companionship when he barely had any. The months after his mother's death had been rather rough, so he had sought out any comfort he could find. He had to tamp his emotions down now, despite not wanting too, because James was being paid to teach him, not to be forced to stand around and be made uncomfortable by Steve.

 

When the doorbell rang on Thursday, Steve was nervous for a different reason than the first time, because he knew what was on the other side of the door now. Steve had gone for casual again, wearing a threadbare Styx t-shirt that Clint had bought him after suffering through Steve listening to the record on repeat for three weeks. He had on the same jeans, since they weren't really dirty and decided last minute to slip into a pair of Iron Man socks that Tony had bought as a joke (only to be embarrassed when Steve actually wore them).

James, it turned out, was just as handsome the second time around. Tonight he was in dark wash jeans that did pretty sinful things to his thighs and a short sleeve NASA shirt. He smiled just as brightly at Steve as he was let into the apartment, but proceeded to frown at Steve when he finally put his bag down in the kitchen.

“You know about Styx but not Queen?” he asked, motioning to Steve's shirt.

Steve laughed, “Bruce showed them too me, I sorta fell in love.”

James rolled his eyes, “Ridiculous, good thing I brought this!”

He reached into this bag and produced a record sleeve, using a bit of a flourish as he passed it to Steve. The sleeve was maroon and read “Queen: Greatest Hits”.

“Consider it a gift.”

“I can't accept this James.” Steve mumbled, in a bit of shock that this man he had met exactly once was trying to give him something.

“Think of it this way: one, it wasn't that expensive, and two, you're paying me, so you basically bought it for yourself.”

When Steve looked up, James was leaning against the breakfast bar. He had his arms crossed over his impressive chest, the motion making his biceps bulge slightly, his myriad of tattoos on complete display thanks to the short sleeves.

“Trust me, I'm doing you a service, now go put that baby on and let's cook.”

 

Steve liked Queen. Scratch that: Steve _loved_ Queen. It was clear two songs in that James knew the words to every song and by the time they reached the third one on the album the man had forgotten whatever reserves had him only mouthing the words. He was belting out “Killer Queen”, his voice easily reaching the notes as he sang, all while instructing Steve on how to prepare rosemary chicken thighs and oven baked potatoes. James had flushed at one point, when he thought Steve was laughing at him, but Steve quickly assured him that he was enjoying the performance and the music.

 

“You were right about Queen,” Steve informed him, spearing a soft potato cube.

The dinner was great and Steve was rather proud, because James had done little more that night than stand by and point things out to Steve as he went.

“I told you man. The UK produced some good shit. I'll show you The Who next, since your friends seemed determined to keep your music US centered.”

James had complimented Steve on the food only shortly after they sat down, after which they had fallen into silence again before Steve spoke up.

“I just think they didn't want to put too much on me at once, but seriously, thanks James.”

A bashful smile crept onto James face as he looked down at his plate, pushing at a bit of potato.

Steve was determined to fill the silence again, so he asked: “Can I ask you something?”

James looked up and nodded, cheek full of food.

“Is there any story behind your tattoos?”

“Oh,” he said, after swallowing, “Not really? I'm not sure how much you know about tattoos...”

“Not a whole lot, mostly Sailors had them back in the day. They looked similar to yours actually.”

“Yup! There are different styles of tattoos you know, Japanese, dotwork, so on. The style I have is called traditional or old school, it's stylized after the sort of tattoos sailors would get.”

“They look very well done.”

James smiled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Thanks, my guy is pretty good. Anyways, there's no real story. My grandfather was in the Navy and had tattoos like this and I always loved them. I was pretty determined when I was a kid that I was going to go into the service. That was before I became a “dirty liberal” and realized that people were dying for men who didn't give a shit about them. So I went to culinary school instead. Uh, no offense meant though.”

Steve laughed, “Seriously, none taken. I fought in one of the worst wars you know? I get what you mean, we were fighting for these men who had no idea what we were going through. Jeez, I remember,” Steve started, before faltering, “Nevermind, sorry.”

He tended to ramble when he got on about the past and he didn't want to make James uncomfortable because he felt like he couldn't stop him. James was watching Steve, having set his fork down since he was finished eating.

“You can go on if you want. If you don't that's fine too, but, ya'know, I don't mind, my grandfather used to tell me all sorts of stories.”

Steve cleared his throat, “Well, I remember there was one time, The Commandos and I had been three weeks in the field, just getting back to base camp. My CO, Phillips, he sought me out, said there was some big brass that wanted to shake hands, shit like that. These were the type of men that sat at desks all day, they came out to the field once in a blue moon to show face, got nice accommodations and the sort.”

James was leaning on his elbow, chin propped in his hand, watching Steve as he spoke.

“So, we were all dirty, smelled terrible you know? I was tired and I got fed up, that these men could come in and just demand to see me. I went, right then, marched past Phillips in my grimy uniform, The Commandos trailing behind me, because they knew me well enough by then to know something good was about to happen.”

Steve had strode into the tent like he owned the place and walked right up to the clean pressed brass, coming to attention and saluting them, his men behind him. When they were put at ease he stuck his hand out to introduce himself, giving the room pause. There was still blood under his short fingernails. Dum-Dum had a split lip while Falsworth was sporting a black eye. They all stank to high heaven. He had put on his Captain America voice, the one he used for selling bonds and told them it was “such an honor to meet you General”.

“They were all looking at me like I had lost my mind as I went on about how much they must care to drop by to see the men. I faked like I didn't know they just wanted to see me. I insisted that the men in the medical tent would be glad to see them, to know the higher ups cared about the little man. Phillips just stood back as I walked them all through the med tent.”

“How'd that go?” James asked, he was genuinely interested as far as Steve could tell.

“Oh, horrible. Those tents were the worst. There wasn't a lot to be done for most of the men that came through there. Anyone laid up in that tent was not in a good way. Gangrene was all over the place and it smelled like death. One of them passed out while another had to excuse himself. Pinky told me later he saw him spilling his guts behind a tree.”

James' mouth was hanging open in a smile of disbelief.

“Needless to say, we didn't get a lot of visitors after that, it was totally worth the ass chewing I got.”

“You're sorta a trouble maker, aren't you?”

Steve shrugged, “People seem to think that because I grew up in a time where people frowned on a lot of things that I'm going to be like that. That I'm all prim and proper. I get asked all the time what I think about things like tattoos, piercings, all these weird hair colors. Honestly, I don't really care, people express themselves differently, so long as it doesn't hurt anyone else whats the big deal? I've actually been wanting to get a tattoo myself, but I keep talking myself out of it.”

“Just do it.” James said, shrugging, like it was that simple.

It probably was too, it wasn't like he didn't have the money to do it.

“I feel like people put you on a pedestal, like they think you're above a lot of stuff, but you're just a guy. It's no one's business if you want to get a tattoo.”

Steve smiled, starting to protest when James collected their plates and went around to rinse them off.

“You washed last time.”

“It's not your job though.”

The other man shrugged.

“Thanks. For the dishes and for what you said. I don't get a lot of normal people telling me to just be me. It doesn't have as much meaning when someone like Tony Stark tells you to say “fuck it”.”

“I feel like he's the worst role model for that though, isn't that like, his motto?”

They both laughed.

“But seriously, I dealt with some backlash even as a “normal person” for my tattoos, like people don't think you can be a decent human being if you have tattoos. I actually had a woman tell me one time that I couldn't have a bachelor's degree because I had my tongue pierced, like how fucked up is that?”

“You have your tongue pierced?”

Steve was a little taken back by that, because that seemed like one of the last places anyone should want a needle. James just stuck his tongue out though and sure enough there was a little silver ball settled in the middle of his tongue.

“God, did that hurt?”

“Oh fuck yeah, totally worth the look on my mom's face though. I was sixteen and had a friend pretend to be my dad to sign for it. It was super reckless, but hey, it was fun and I don't regret it.”

James finished loading up the dishwasher and rested his forearms on the counter, looking over the breakfast bar at Steve.

“Regardless of whether or not you save people, you're still allowed to have “normal people” things Steve.”

Steve let that stew as James set all his things back into his bag. They walked to the door and Steve held it open for him.

“Uh, James,” he mumbled, making the other man pause in the doorway, “Really, thank you. I know it may not seem like much, but you're little pep talk was helpful.”

James grinned in that roguish way he was wont to do, “Anytime Steve. And hey, um, I don't really go by James that much. I introduce myself that way because it sounds professional, but I like to go by Bucky. It's a family nickname, don't ask.”

Steve nodded, the two of them smiling at each other in a slightly charged sort of way, “All right, Bucky it is.”

-

 

“I know a guy.” Natasha informed Steve that Friday as they sparred, talking about the night before with James, no, _Bucky._

“You do?”

Nat shrugged.

“Natasha, do you have a tattoo?”

The good thing about Natasha being able to read Steve was that he could read her almost as well and while anyone else but Clint probably wouldn't be able to see it, she was sheepish.

“Show me.”

She sighed, rolling off of where she had him pinned and helped him to his feet.

“Not a word to anyone.” she hissed.

They pinky promised and she lifted her shirt up to her armpit; there, on her left side just under her bra line was a simple arrow. He popped an eyebrow up and gave her a look.

“Shut your mouth Rogers and meet me at the address I'll text you on Saturday.

-

 

The shop was clean, small and tucked between a bookstore and what Steve was sure was a sex shop. Clint and Natasha stood next to each other in that way they did that made it seem like they orbited one another. Not that they were together or anything, according to them.

Natasha's guy was a short disgruntled looking woman with shaved hair and a ring through her septum. Her lips were dark purple and she had half a dozen piercings in each ear.

“Steve, this is Neg.” Natasha said, as the other woman popped her gum.

“Neg” had one arm done up with stylized warheads, a mushroom cloud, and bio-hazard symbol.

“You want a tattoo?” Neg asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure do.”

“What you got in mind?”

Steve produced the drawing of The Howling Commando's seal, it had been designed by all of the Commando's one night. Gabe had asked why they didn't have one when all the other special ops guys got something, so Steve had busted out the sketch book and they got to work. Unsurprisingly it had a wolf howling as its background (Dum-Dum's contribution). The word “Commandos” was scrawled along the bottom with the whole thing encircled by a ribbon like border, to finish it off it had crossed rifles superimposed behind the wolf.

“Oh cool,” Neg mumbled, looking at the drawing, “You did the hard work for me.”

 

Neg traced the design on transfer paper and once they had settled on the stencil's location (right shoulder blade), she had Steve stand by while she set up her area. Nat was hanging around, though Clint had wandered off with another tattoo artist without a word. In the back he could see the piercing area where a woman who was very interested in Steve's pecs was getting her eyebrow pierced.

“You thinking about a piercing Rogers?” Nat asked smugly, probably meaning was he thinking about Bucky's tongue piercing.

Which, yes, yes he was, but he was also thinking about himself as well.

“You know, ever since I was graced with getting to see Stark shirtless I was always curious about nipple piercings.”

Natasha somehow, didn't seem phased by this.

“I've heard they're pretty great, if, you know, you like having your nipples played with.” she teased.

“I wonder if they hurt,” Steve mumbled, absentmindedly.

“Nope,” came Neg's voice, from where she was taping plastic wrap to a reclined dentist type chair. “All right Mr. America, straddle this baby and assume the position.”

The tattoo wasn't that bad, it mostly burned a little, but considering how many needles had been involved to make Steve what he was, it was nothing. Neg was great and finished up in about an hour. Clint had wandered back to them about halfway through without any sort of explanation as to where he went.

“Steve's gonna get his nipple pierced,” Natasha informed him when he sidled up to her.

“Really?” Clint asked, looking at Steve, he was resting his cheek on the chair's back and probably would have shrugged if he didn't have a needle in his shoulder.

“Sure, why not?”

 

The guy who did the piercings was a little less willing to take things in stride (He was awestruck that _Captain_ _America_  wanted his nipple pierced) like Neg was, so the woman ushered the guy out of the area and took over for him.

“Left or right? Both?” she asked, pulling out things from different drawers.

They had finished his tattoo and he certainly had not gotten emotional when he looked at it in the mirror.

“Left.” Natasha answered for him.

“Left,” Steve parroted.

It hurt slightly more than the tattoo and Steve left with instructions to care for both, though Neg doubted it would take long for either to heal. Steve smiled at his new little secrets, something the public couldn't take from him.

-

 

As per Neg's directions Steve went back to the shop on Monday after work for her to check the tattoo and piercing. Since he had never had either he wasn't sure how to tell if they were healed properly and with his healing factor they were both sure it wouldn't take any time at all. Neg had barely looked at the tattoo before she deemed it healed and then snapped on a new pair of gloves before getting a little up close an personal with his left nipple.

“Does this hurt?” she asked, poking it slightly.

“Nope,” he answered, because it did a little opposite of hurt.

She pushed on the little silver barbel and inspected it briefly before nodding.

“Yeah, looks like it's all healed up, you lucky bastard,” she smiled at him, “You wanna keep that one or do you want a different piece of jewelry?”

Steve looked over the little trays that the shop had and left with a blue anodized ring with a small ball on it. He smiled the whole way home.

-

 

When Tuesday came around Steve stocked his fridge with the needed ingredients, including the makings for peach cobbler, which was exciting. He had to change shirts a couple of times before he found one thick enough that his new piercing couldn't be seen through it (because that as _not_ something he needed Bucky seeing). The doorbell rang right on time and Steve popped up from where he was lounging on his couch, humming along to the record he had put on (Elton John). Bucky smiled happily as he walked into the apartment, bumping Steve's shoulder in greeting as he went.

Bucky taught Steve how to make Alfredo sauce from scratch (and looked properly affronted when Steve asked why they didn't just use pre-made). He sat at the breakfast bar and talked Steve through prepping the peach cobbler for the oven.

“I know it wasn't on the list, but I bought ice cream to go with the cobbler,” Steve said, after he set the glass pan in the oven.

“Wait, it wasn't on the list?” Bucky asked, pulling his phone out.

Steve assumed he was going through the email that Steve had been sent at the beginning. Bucky made a hurt noise and put his phone down.

“Wow, it wasn't. I can't believe I forgot. Good thing you thought of it then, not that I would have let you eat peach cobbler without ice cream. I could have made a trip to the gas station down the road.”

“It's not a big deal. My mom used to make apple cobbler for my birthday and there were a few years where she was even able to afford ice cream, those were the best years.”

Steve got a little bashful when he saw Bucky looking at him sadly.

“My mom makes me do dishes on my birthday.” he pouted, making Steve chuckle.

 

Later, when they were eating the chicken Alfredo, Bucky pointed his fork at Steve as he finished a bite.

“Hey, is your birthday really on the fourth of July?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

That got Steve to really laugh, “Honestly, no. I was born shortly after ten at night on the third of July. When I became Captain America Howard Stark thought it would be funny and so they changed it on all my papers.”

Bucky almost fell off his stool laughing.

-

 

“I'm Italian if you couldn't tell,” Bucky teased as he stood over Steve's shoulder watching him cook eggplant parm.

It was the second Italian meal they had made that week. Steve was relishing in having Bucky near him that Thursday rather than sitting up at the breakfast bar like last time. Bucky, it turned out, was actually a pretty tactile person, which Steve was not going to complain about.

They had gotten the brownies for that night into the oven a little late, which meant they were done with dinner before the dessert was finished. The two of them were talking when Steve remembered that he hadn't shown Bucky his tattoo yet. He waited for a break in their conversation and went to get his phone from his room.

“Do you not usually keep your phone on you?” Bucky asked, when Steve came back.

“Not generally,” Steve shrugged, “My friends know I'm busy and I don't feel like I need to have it all the time.”

“Man, I wish I could be like that. Even if I'm not using it I feel like I need to have it on my person. Oh well, what did you want to show me?”

Steve pulled up the picture that Neg had taken for him and set the phone on the table to show Bucky, who leaned over it and messed with the screen to zoom in.

“Damn Steve, this looks awesome. I can't believe you went and did it! Shit, it already looks healed here too.”

“I got it done last Saturday and went back Monday to have the artist check it, she got mad because it healed so quickly.”

Bucky whistled, “Lucky, healing tattoos is the worst thing _ever_. It seriously looks good though.”

“Thanks, Neg was great. I'm really glad I went and did it.”

“If my mom ever finds out I helped to convince you to get a tattoo she'd probably skin me alive,” Bucky laughed, getting up to pull the brownies out when the timer went off.

-

 

That weekend was relaxing. Steve stayed at the Tower Saturday for movie night and that meant that Sunday morning was team breakfast. Pepper had even managed to drag Bruce and Tony out of the lab, so they were all eating in the communal kitchen, crowded around the island.

“I heard you got a tattoo Steve,” Bruce said, pushing at some eggs on his plate.

Tony' head popped up and he stared at Steve.

“You did not.” Stark accused.

“He totally did,” Natasha shot back, chewing on a strip of bacon.

“Damn Captain Do Good isn't all that good after all.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Tony, you're the only one who thinks I'm innocent anymore,” he said, pointing his fork at Tony across the island.

“Speaking of which, you three missed my big coming out.”

That gave both Tony and Bruce pause, though Pepper seemed unaffected by his words.

“Like, on television?” Tony asked.

“Oh God no.” Steve breathed.

Bruce squeezed his shoulder, giving him a light smile, “Good for you Steve.”

“So what's your poison then?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Men.”

Tony scoffed, “People need to stop limiting themselves, pansexuality is the way to go.”

Pepper and Bruce both rolled their eyes and Steve couldn't say he was surprised.

“And then you have people like Brucie here who doesn't like anyone.” Tony sighed.

“You know that's not how it works Tony,” Bruce chastised lightly, before turning to Steve, “I'm asexual, but biromantic.”

“That means-” Tony started, only to be cut off by Steve saying, “I know what biromantic means Tony, I do use the internet.”

“Am I the only straight Avenger?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clint nodded and Natasha shrugged.

“Thanks a lot Sam, we could have renamed ourselves the Queervengers if it weren't for you,” Tony whined, before dramatically sliding off his stool and leaving the kitchen.

Pepper sighed, “I better make sure he doesn't go back to the lab, he promised to get some sleep finally,” she turned to Bruce, pressing short kiss to his cheek, “Join us when you're done.”

Bruce just nodded, giving her small forearm a squeeze before she followed Tony.

“So Bruce-” Same started, only to be left hanging when Bruce silently slid off his own stool, hugging is plate to his chest as he walked away.

 

Monday night Natasha was sprawled across Steve's couch, her feet in his lap. There was three empty pizza boxes on his coffee table and the smell of nail polish permeated the air as Steve hunched over Nat's feet. Sam and Clint had begged off dinner, claiming they had “bird people stuff” to do, so Natasha came over and shoved pizza and glitter nail polish at Steve.

“How are things with James?” she asked, looking down her legs at Steve.

“How are things with Clint?” he retorted, giving her a pointed look.

“There isn't things with Clint.”

“Just like there isn't things with Bucky.”

She sighed.

“I don't get why you and Clint won't just get your heads on right and finally get together?” Steve asked, finishing with the nail polish.

“Love is for children,” Nat huffed, crossing her arms.

“We both know how you feel about love, but we also both know that you have feelings for Clint, even if it isn't, or won't ever be, love.”

“I can't have that sort of weakness Steve.”

He touched one of her knees, making her look at him, “I hate to break it to you Nat, but he already is. You know I'm right so stop looking at me like that. If someone tried to use him against you it would work, so why not get all the nice stuff that comes with that sort of reality instead of holding back?”

“It's not that easy.”

“Why?”

Natasha looked around, like she was wondering if she could make it out a window before Steve grabbed her, which no, she could not.

“I'm like Bruce. I mean, yeah, I use sex for missions, but I don't like it, I don't _want_ it, and I don't want to ask that of Clint.”

“Do you really think he would care?”

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, it was obvious how gone on Natasha Clint was.

“You have no right to be lecturing me when you're letting someone like _James_ just pass you by,” she said, trying to deflect.

“That's different, I barely know him. Yeah, I like him, but I don't want to rush something when it's just me getting too attached to someone because I'm finally in a place where I can.”

“Oh Steve, we both know that's not the case.”

“Just like we both know that you and Clint would be _awesome_ together,” he said smugly.

Natasha sat up abruptly, shoving her pinky into his space, “I promise to consider Clint if you promise to seriously consider James.”

“Deal, but even if I decide to do something, I won't do it until he's no longing teaching me, I don't want to put him in a spot where he turns me down and then feels like he needs to replace himself or something.”

“Fine, deal.”

-

 

Tuesday when Steve let Bucky in it was obvious that something was wrong off the bat. Bucky looked tired, his eyelids heavy with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was down, hanging a little limply around his face and he could hardly muster a smile when he walked past Steve.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, as Bucky starting fishing things slowly out of his bag.

“Yeah, why?” Bucky answered and while Steve wasn't great at lying he could tell pretty easily when other people were.

“Bucky, no offense, but you look like shit, do you not feel well?”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair and blinking slowly.

“My dad is in the hospital,” he mumbled, deflating.

The words made Steve go a little cold, because the one time his mother had been admitted was when she passed away. She had stayed in the hospital for weeks, slowly deteriorating, it had killed Steve to have to watch. He set a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm and when it wasn't ill received he guided him to a stool, Bucky sat without protest and sank forward, putting his face into his hands.

“We can reschedule the lesson tonight. Or not worry about rescheduling at all, I'll still pay for the day though.” Steve tried, getting Bucky a glass of water.

Bucky shook his head, “We can just push everything back a day, if you're sure, I can, you know, I can stay.”

“No. You need to be with your family Buck.”

The other man shuddered a little, “My older sister Rebecca has been with my mom and little sisters all day since I've been at work. She's pregnant and so we don't want her going to the hospital. They've been trying to send me home all day, but I don't want to stop and think about something happening to my dad.”

Steve rubbed Bucky's back and encouraged him to drink some water.

“Go relieve your sister Bucky, I'm sure your ma is just as bad off. I don't know what happened, but I hope everything ends up alright.”

Bucky nodded, “His appendix burst out of nowhere. They operated, but there's still an infection he's fighting off. It's still kinda touch and go right now.”

Steve put the few things Bucky had taken out of his bag back inside.

“Finish that glass of water and go home. I'll put the pork loin in the freezer for when things settle down.”

Bucky swallowed another swig of water and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Give me your number, I can let you know whether or not to expect me Thursday.”

Steve did so and watched over Bucky to make sure he finished the water off, before seeing him out, wishing him luck.

 

It was a little lonely, but he ordered take out and watched the X-Files for the rest of the night.

-

 

Wednesday afternoon his phone went off with a text from an unfamiliar number, when he looked at it, he couldn't help but smile.

 

“Hey Steve! It's Bucky, my dad is home and doing GREAT. I'll be there tomorrow night so make sure that pork loin is defrosted buddy!”

 

A small warmth bloomed in Steve's chest, he reread the text at least a dozen times over the rest of the day.

-

 

Bucky was positively radiant Thursday night. He grinned at Steve and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed him into the apartment. The happy mood was infectious and Steve found himself smiling as he followed after Bucky.

“How's your dad doing today?” Steve asked, watching as Bucky sorted through his mystical bag.

“He's doing good, my mom's already trying to get him to do chores, needless to say he bounced back pretty quickly,” he smiled over his shoulder at Steve and asked, “You defrosted the pig dick right?”

Steve stuttered and gaped at him, “I'm sorry, _what_?!”

Bucky laughed.

“That's what my mom call pork loin.”

“She does not!”

“Hand on the Bible Stevie, my mother is a crude Italian woman, I assure you she calls pork loin pig dick.”

Steve flushed, “It, it isn't though, right?”

Bucky actually snorted at that, “Close enough pal, it's all the tender meat, I mean come on, it's called pork _loin_ for a reason.”

“Jesus, yes, I defrosted it, considered trying to implement it as a weapon too, it fell out of the freezer and cracked the tile.” Steve said, pointing to the floor.

“I broke a toe once because that happened but I didn't jump out of the way.”

Steve chuckled.

“Laugh it up Steve, everyone does. I've never lived it down.”

“I doubt you ever will Bucky, that's pretty bad.”

 

The pork loin was a set it and forget it meal, they chopped up carrots and potatoes and onions and set it all in a pan to cook in the oven. While it was cooking they chatted like usual, Steve learned about Bucky's family dynamics, his matriarch mother, twin little sisters (“Pain in my ass Steve, that's what they are”), and his older sister Rebecca.

“I don't think I've ever seen my mother so happy as the day Becca stormed into the house and told her she was leaving her asshole boyfriend, pregnant or not.” Bucky laughed, finishing up the story about how Rebecca came to be a soon to be single mother.

“There's so many things about the future that make me happy, like the fact that being a single mother is more acceptable. People looked down on my mother so much for not remarrying after my pa died,” Steve said, sighing.

Bucky got quiet for a moment, which Steve had quickly learned was what the man did when he was really thinking hard about something. Steve let him ponder whatever it was and wasn't surprised when Bucky asked him a heavy question.

“Are you happy here in the twenty-first century?”

Steve thought long and hard about that, because he _was_ happy, happier than he had ever been.

“I am. I don't think I was ever in a good place after my ma passed on, through Project Rebirth and the war, I uh, was in therapy for a bit when I woke up and they kind of opened my eyes to how miserable I was,” he rambled, looking at the counter-top.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

Steve laughed a little dryly, “Didn't you already?”

Bucky shrank back a little and Steve felt bad, he didn't mean to sound crass, because he did want to talk to Bucky about this stuff (for whatever reason, maybe because he was a “normal person”, treating Steve like he was any old guy, not Captain America, not walking around on eggshells), he wanted Bucky to know him. He wanted to know Bucky.

“Shit, no, sorry, I didn't mean it like that Buck, ask away, I just may not answer.”

“The plane,” Bucky mumbled, not looking at Steve, “was there another option?”

“Not for me,” Steve answered quietly, making Bucky look up at him, opening his mouth like he was going to speak, but Steve held up a finger.

“Hold on, you have to understand Bucky, the war was coming to an end, I knew that, everyone did. I had nothing back home for me, no family, nothing. Sure, the Commandos were my brothers, but they all had people back home for them. I was either going to go back to being a dancing monkey or a lab rat and I wanted neither of those.”

Bucky seemed taken back by Steve's words, “I can't believe you had no one, what about Peggy Carter?”

And that was the question of the century, the one all the reporters asked, but while they asked to get a rise out of Steve, Bucky was asking because he couldn't believe, couldn't fathom that Steve thought he had no one at all.

“I loved Peggy, still do. I probably would have married her if I hadn't gone down with the plane, had kids, the whole nine yards. I wouldn't have been happy though. And Peggy, who knows, she might not have started SHIELD, probably _wouldn't_ have started SHIELD.”

“Why marry her if you wouldn't be happy? Were you that determined to be miserable?”

Bucky's words weren't meant in a harsh way, at least Steve didn't think they were.

“Marrying Peggy would have been what people expected me to do.”

Steve was leaning on the counter in the kitchen, with Bucky sitting at the breakfast bar, he was leaning on the surface of the bar, resting his cheek against his forearms. They made eye contact and Steve swallowed.

“I'm gay Bucky. I would have married Peggy, but I would have lived a lie my whole life. So, no, there wasn't really another option in my mind.”

Bucky sat back, breathing a soft “oh”, looking everywhere but at Steve's face.

“Shit Steve, I didn't mean for you to, I wasn't trying. _God_ , please tell me I didn't back you into a corner and force you to come out.”

Steve shook his head, “I've gotten good at skirting around it with people who I don't want to tell, but I came out to the team not too long ago, so I think I'm done hiding it, since I don't have to anymore.”

Bucky smiled a small thing, nodding, “Well, thanks, for trusting me with that. I hope I don't have to assure you that I won't tell anyone.”

“You don't, I know you wouldn't, or else I wouldn't have told you,” Steve said, right as the timer for the oven went off.

Steve turned and pulled open the oven as Bucky slid off his stool and walked around into the kitchen, they both stood close, peering over the meat thermometer to make sure it was cooked all the way through. When it read the right temperature Steve smiled at Bucky.

“Let's eat some pig dick!” Steve said, just to watch the flush that crept across the other man's face.

“Jesus Steve, I never should have told you that story,” Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes, but smiling the whole time.

-

 

“I wanna come out,” Steve announced that Friday night when the team was crowded into a kitchen at the Tower again, eating take out.

Tony looked up, stabbing his chopsticks through the air at Steve, “You already did that Steve-O.”

“No like, press conference out. I hate that it's something I have to decide to do in the first place, but I want to do it.”

“Sure,” Pepper said, breaking through the silence that had overcome everyone, “I'll set something up, when do you want to do it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Steve,” Natasha started, “You don't have to rush.”

“I'm not rushing Nat, I've waited over eighty years for this.”

Pepper was already tapping away at her phone, “On it.”

 

They agreed for him not to wear the uniform, Steve sternly insisted he wouldn't take questions and turned down the idea at doing a one on one interview with anyone just yet.

“You watch the news a lot?” Steve texted Bucky while he stood and waited to take the stage.

The answer came back pretty quickly, “Can't say I do, but my mom went on this morning about some big press conference involving you and sat the whole damn family down like it's the fucking moon landing.”

Steve laughed a little hysterically to himself, an assistant standing next to him gave him a weird look.

“Amazing,” he texted back, using an eye roll face.

“Everything good?” Bucky's text asked.

“Good as it can be.” Steve responded, before silencing his phone when Pepper walked out and calmed down the crowd of reporters.

Steve had no idea how she ended up handling PR for the Avengers on top of everything else she already did. Once she said her thing and introduce Steve he walked out, putting on the Captain America face and hoped that his voice didn't shake.

“Good morning everyone,” he started, glad when he didn't waiver, “I'm sure you're all probably wondering why we called a press conference out of the blue and don't worry, you'll get your answer. This wouldn't be my style though if I didn't say a few things first so... I get asked by reporters a lot if I'm happy that I woke up in the future and at first I used to get angry, because I didn't understand how they could even think that I'd be happy to wake up seventy years in the future, all my friends dead or dying. That was when I first woke up and I never thought that I'd be happy here in this century, that I'd just float through my life after I woke up. Then yesterday I got asked again, if I was happy and I found for one of the first times since I woke up that I could honestly answer that question with a yes,” Steve paused, the crowd was listening intently and in the wings Natasha was waving her hands a little.

He glanced over at her and she started signing, “We need to go, emergency”, he wasn't going to bail on this though, so he started up again a little quicker.

“Anyways, when I thought about it, the reason I was happy was because I can be myself in this century and not really have to worry. And when I finally allowed myself to realize that things got a hell of a lot better,” Natasha looked about ready to storm the stage at that point.

“So the reason that we called this press conference was for me to come out,” he pushed on, giving her a placating look, “I'm gay and I always have been. I'm not seeing anyone right now so I don't want any tabloids trying to speculate which of my teammates I'm dating and if I ever do see someone I hope that my partner and I would get respect. As we said at the beginning, we're not taking any questions, now if you'll excuse me I have to go because the Black Widow looks about ready to drag me away by my ear.”

Steve jogged off the stage at that, leaving the rush of reporters yelling for him behind and following Natasha and she started off at a quick run. The quinjet was waiting for them outside and the two of them rushed on. After they were briefed on the issue (robots, Europe, blah blah blah), Steve went to change, deciding to check his phone. There were four texts from Bucky.

“Good luck with public speaking man, I do not envy you,” read the first one, which was sent before his speech.

“Holy shit Steve, go you,” said the second, timed at what Steve figured was the middle of his speech.

“You made my mom cry, she's going on about how happy she is for you.”

“Oh boy, you ran outta there quick, you good?”

Steve laughed at the texts, smiling a little to himself before responding.

“We got called out, not sure when I'll be back, it's probably best to assume lessons are off until I get in touch, sorry. And thanks, tell your mom I'm sorry I made her cry,” he texted back.

Bucky's text came back quickly, “They don't know I'm your culinary Mr. Miyagi (have you seen the Karate Kid?), if I told my mom she'd insist I have you over for dinner. Be careful!”

He wanted to text back, but Natasha and Clint crowded him so they could go over strategy, Tony on comms as he flew next to them.

-

 

Steve missed the Tuesday lesson and wondered if maybe he should have put off the Thursday one as well. He still ached little, having gotten back Wednesday night. The fight hadn't been bad, it had just taken a while to take care of all of the robots, because they kept crawling out of the woodwork like bugs. Steve really didn't want to be alone Thursday though, so he had groceries delivered and assured Bucky he was good for their lesson that night.

He reconsidered when the doorbell rang and Steve couldn't be bothered to change out of the lounge pants and hoodie he was wearing. Bucky took one look at him and shook his head.

“Stevie, you look like shit, full offense,” Bucky announced, pushing past Steve anyways and sliding his shoes off like always.

“It's not that bad.” Steve mumbled (it was that bad, his lip was still swollen and if he breathed wrong he winced).

“Can you even see out of your left eye pal?”

Oh, his eye was swollen too thanks to a split cheek. Steve stood by the entryway, looking properly chastised. He didn't want Bucky to leave, but he didn't want to tell Bucky that either. Bucky set his bag down and pulled out his phone, giving Steve a sad sort of look.

“Did you even try to dodge any punches?” Bucky asked and Steve assumed that was rhetorical because he didn't wait for an answer, instead tapping away at his phone and raising it to his ear.

“Hey Logan,” he said after a minute, “You know damn well who it is I know you have my name in your phone... No shut up... We need to push Rogers' lessons back again, yes again again again, we knew this might happen. Cool, I'll let Marie know so she can fix my schedule. Thanks. Yeah. Bye.”

Steve just stood by as Bucky tucked his phone back into his pocket and put his hands on his hips.

“Go sit and turn the television on or something.” Bucky directed, jabbing his head towards the couch.

“What?” Steve asked.

“I'm not gonna have you sit at the bar and give me those damn puppy dog eyes while I'm cooking so go sit. I'm going to raid your fridge though.”

“Why?”

“Jesus Steve, I'm making you food. You look like shit and I'm not about to leave you here to wallow so go veg out on the couch while I see if you have the makings for meatloaf.”

Steve was still in a bit of shock as he walked to the couch, Bucky wasn't going to leave him; he melted into the couch, tension he hadn't known he was feeling slipping off him as he pulled up the next episode of Star Trek in the queue. He didn't realize how tired he was until the sound of Bucky in the kitchen lulled him to sleep.

 

“Stevie,” came Bucky's voice, as he gently shook Steve, “Hey, wake up bud, food's ready.”

Steve sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, gaining a look from Bucky he hadn't seen before; he looked content as he watched Steve. He yawned and stretched as Bucky walked back toward the kitchen.

“You cool with eating on the couch?” Bucky asked.

“Uh? Oh, yeah.”

A plate was handed to Steve, piled high with meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and potatoes with gravy. Steve didn't even know he had all that in his kitchen.

“Comfort foods.” Bucky said, smiling.

They sat and ate, watching the television for a while before Bucky spoke again.

“I'm glad you're safe. I mean, yeah it looks like you went three rounds with Thor, but you know...”

Steve smiled to himself, “Thanks Buck, for that and for staying.”

“I couldn't with those puppy dog eyes.” Bucky laughed.

“I do not have puppy dog eyes.”

Bucky hummed, “Sure you don't Steve.”

They conversed over the rest of their food, Bucky relaying the week Steve had been gone for and Steve complaining about people who built robots (Tony included). Once the food was done Bucky took their plates and demanded Steve stay on the couch as he washed the dishes.

 

It was dark when Steve woke up again, only the harsh light from the television lighting the room; he sat up and looked around to see no sign of Bucky. The little blue light was flashing on his phone though, so he pulled it off the table and checked it to see a message from Bucky.

“You fell asleep again, I hope you don't mind that I stayed for a few more episodes of Star Trek. I cleaned up everything and put the food for the next lesson in the freezer so it'll keep. Let me know how you feel in the morning,” it read and Steve couldn't help but full on grin at the thought of Bucky watching over him as he slept, it made him feel safe.

-

 

Sunday saw Steve, Nat, Clint, and Sam at one of their favorite diners for brunch, Steve was a little surprised when Maria Hill showed, but from the way Nat hugged her when she showed up, she was obviously invited. They crammed into a booth, Steve shoved in with Nat and Clint; Steve couldn't help but notice one of Natasha's hands drift to rest on Clint's thigh during the course of the meal. When he finally figured out that Sam was flirting with Maria (who was flirting right back), he realized he was the odd man out, even if no one would admit it.

He didn't feel so bad about checking his phone in his lap in the end; Bucky and him had been texting at a regular pace since Thursday, they didn't talk about much of significance, but Steve enjoyed it anyways.

 

As they finished paying, Steve caught Sam by the arm.

“Hey, I'm gonna hit up the grocery store, you wanna come with?” he asked.

Sam nodded, though he was watching where Maria was leaving, “Yeah man, just, uh, hold up for a sec,” he answered, tugging out of Steve's grip to jog after Maria.

Steve waited outside the diner and gave Sam a questioning look when he came back from where he had chased Maria off to.

“What was that about?” Steve asked.

Sam grinned, “Got a date next Saturday.”

Steve ribbed Sam for details the whole way to the store, happy for his friend.

 

Food shopping with Sam was a mistake and Steve had forgotten that until he was standing in the cereal isle for ten minutes waiting for Sam to decide between two equally sugary choices. Steve didn't need to buy any food for lessons since they had pushed the meals back, but he still needed a few everyday things. He was also planning to bake cookies. After looking at a recipe and not being completely daunted by it, Steve decided to make chocolate chip cookies for Bucky to thank him for Thursday night. Sam loved the idea.

Steve sighed, staring at the five boxes of Special K berry cereal he had picked after only a moment deliberation, jolting a little when he heard his name called. He turned and was pleasantly surprised to find Bucky walking toward him, a full shopping basket in hand.

“Hey Bucky.” Steve said, when Bucky stopped next to him.

Sam, ever diligent, whipped his head around when he heard Steve say Bucky's name and proceeded to stalk back towards the two of them, both boxes of cereal in hand.

“Damn Stevie, you got enough Special K?” Bucky teased, as Sam put his own cereal in the cart.

Sam laughed, “This guy eats cereal like it's going out of style, you should see how much milk he goes through, it's insane.”

“Aw, he's gotta keep his bones strong,” Bucky ribbed, elbowing Steve slightly.

“Seriously guys, you haven't even met and you're ganging up on me?” Steve asked, flushing.

Both Sam and Bucky laughed, the later offering his hand.

“Bucky Barnes, nice to meetcha.”

Sam grinned, “Sam Wilson, twenty-five percent of Steve's impulse control.”

“Oh fuck you Sam,” Steve jeered.

The men laughed again.

“You're the guy keeping Steve from killing us with his cooking, right?” Sam powered on.

“That's me, but he's not that bad.” Bucky insisted, smiling at Steve, who returned the gesture.

“Man, I wanna believe you, but you weren't there for that chicken breast, my grandma was turning in her grave, God rest her soul.”

Steve glared at Sam, who smiled.

“Well, have him cook for you again when I'm through with him so he can redeem himself,” Bucky started before saying, “It was nice to meet you Sam, I was actually just about to check out when I saw Steve and thought I'd say “hi”, so I gotta jet.”

“No problem man, anyone teaching Steve to cook is a friend of mine.”

Steve mumbled a good-bye to Bucky, who waved as he walked away; as soon as he was out of earshot Sam turned on Steve.

“Holy shit man, like I'm straight but that boy is _fine_ and the way he was looking at you!”

“Sam,” Steve hissed, “Please don't, I don't need to get my hopes up.”

Sam rolled his eyes but tugged on the cart, “Alright, come on man, let's go get cookie ingredients for the guy who so obviously likes you.”

-

 

Steve had spent most of Monday working on the cookies, which he glanced at nervously as he went to answer to door when Bucky rang to be let in on Tuesday. Bucky went through his usually steps of unloading his bag and going over the meal they would be cooking (steak that night), but stopped when he saw the plastic-ware that Steve had put the cookies in. He looked at Steve, affronted, and smacked a hand to his chest.

“Stevie, have you been _cheating on me_?” he asked dramatically.

“What?”

Bucky pointed at the cookies, “Is someone else giving you baking lessons?” he asked, a little more serious this time.

“Oh! No, I uh, looked a recipe up, since I've been learning I've been more confident about cooking and when I looked at the recipe online it wasn't that bad. I actually made them for you, to thank you for last Thursday.”

Bucky clapped loudly and rubbed his hands together before grabbing the cookies and promptly shoving one in his mouth.

“Wow, you're quite the lady, aren't you Buck?” Steve teased as Bucky chewed.

“These are good, I don't even think you need me anymore.”

“Those twelve cookies took me all of Monday to make.”

Bucky hummed, “OK, maybe you do still need me,” he teased, smirking around his bite of cookie.

 

The night went on like normal, the two of them comfortable enough with each other to joke around as Bucky taught Steve how to sear a steak on the stove. Bucky kept eating the cookies over the course of the lesson, even when Steve told him he'd spoil his dinner.

“I work out more than enough to afford to be able to eat a shit ton of cookies Steve,” Bucky grumbled, “Unfortunately not all of us are graced with the body of Adonis.”

Steve felt himself go hot at the comment, begrudgingly accepting a cookie when Bucky offered him one.

 

After Bucky left, complaining of his stomach hurting, Steve settled onto the couch to watch television for a while. When it finally got late enough he grabbed a book and retreated to his room to read until he fell asleep. He changed into a pair of soft sleep pants, but remained shirtless as he usually did when he was alone in his apartment. The book was mildly interesting but just boring enough that it would help him sleep, as he hit his stride reading Steve found himself falling into a habit he had somehow developed.

He fiddled with his nipple ring, as he had found himself doing a lot since he got it. Mostly he just flipped it up and down, occasionally sliding it around through his areola. It wasn't like he was doing it to please himself, not that it didn't feel good, but the habit was just that, a habit. Steve had a hard time sitting still and so it was something to do. He loved the piercing because it made him feel good whenever he looked in the mirror, for some reason unknown to Steve.

Idly he wondered what Bucky would think of it, Steve thought about Bucky catching sight of it through one of his shirts and pointing it out. Steve had caught himself thinking of Bucky's tongue ring plenty of times, the idea of it was sexy to Steve, so he wondered if Bucky would think of his piercing as sexy.

Steve shifted slightly on the bed, swallowing and trying to concentrate on his book, it was difficult with the train of thought though. He was getting hard. The sentence that Steve was reading blurred and he twitched slightly, tugging on the ring more firmly than he meant to.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips shifting up as a jolt of pleasure slide down his spine.

The book in his right hand shook as he tried to keep himself from what was about to happen, but he gave up quickly, tossing the book aside and slipping down his pillows so he was laying down. He palmed his dick through his pants, pulling the ring again and whining into the empty room. Steve thought about Bucky playing with the ring, taking it between his teeth to tug on it before slipping his tongue out to lick at Steve's nipple.

A groan was punched out of Steve, a flash of guilt bit through him because he was thinking about Bucky, because he was going to continue to think about him as he brought himself off. Steve shoved his pants down far enough to free his cock, grabbing it in his right hand, fully hard now. He grabbed the base and gave it a good squeeze, flicking his nipple ring. The thought of stopping to find the lube in his bedside drawer made Steve whine, so he settled for spitting in his hand and reaching back down, giving himself a good stroke.

Steve thought of Bucky jacking him off, of him taking Steve's dick into his mouth; he thought about how that tongue ring would feel against the flesh of his dick. Bucky would go slow, teasing him for sure, he'd probably watch Steve's face while he gave him a suck job.

By then Steve had worked up a fast pace, fucking his hips up into his hand, pre-come eventually helping to smooth the way as he continued to tease his left nipple with his free hand. Steve imagined Bucky would press his fingers into Steve as he sucked him off and Steve wanted it worse than anything in his life. He wanted Bucky to bend him in half and hold him down as he slipped his dick into Steve nice and slow.

Steve moaned loudly at the thought, wondering if Bucky's cock was as thick as the rest of him; he was sure Bucky would suck on Steve's sensitive nipples as he fucked him. It was the thought of Bucky teething at the anodized blue ring while fucking into Steve that finally had him crying out, streaking come high up onto his chest as he jerked himself through his orgasm.

 

In the shower, after Steve had pulled himself together enough to stand on shaky legs, he felt the full weight of guilt hit him and pondered at how he was going to look Bucky in the face the next time he saw him.

-

 

As it turned out, Steve had no problem acting the same around Bucky Thursday night, the two of them carried on as usual, cooking and chatting. Steve thought about what that meant about him as a person, that he could masturbate to the thought of Bucky and have no issues being around him later, but he pushed it aside in order to enjoy one of the few lessons they had left.

-

 

Saturday night Steve was lounging on his couch watching Pulp Fiction for the second time when his phone rang. He groped for it on the coffee table, not wanting to sit up, and wondered why Bucky was calling him at eleven-thirty on the Saturday.

“Hey Buck, what's up?” Steve asked when he answered.

The sound of muffled bass heavy music bled in from the background and when Bucky didn't say anything Steve figured he maybe butt dialed him.

“Bucky?”

“Steve?” Bucky asked, his voice sounded heavy and even the one word was slurred.

“Hey Bucky, did you drunk call me?” Steve laughed.

“Steve, I need help,” Bucky said, suddenly frantic.

Steve felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on him as he sat up, “Bucky, what's wrong, where are you?”

“Club, m'at uh, it's in Brooklyn, shit Steve, this guy, m'pretty sure he put something in my drink.”

“What club are you at Bucky? Are you safe, where are you?” Steve was already on his feet, moving into his room to find jeans.

“Bathroom. I came here after I started feeling weird. M'not drunk I promise, I only had two beers.”

“OK, that's OK Buck, it'd be fine even if you were drunk, but I need to know what club you're at, I'm coming to get you.”

“Um, s'the one, not downtown, s'in DUMBO, gay club, I can't, the name is like a color m'pretty sure. I'm sorry Steve, I'm so sorry.”

“Calm down, it's alright, I know where you are, I'm leaving right now, I'm gonna be there in ten minutes tops, just stay where you are.”

“I'm scared Steve,” Bucky mumbled, he sounded so small and tired, his words were slurring even worse than earlier.

“I know, I know, look I have to hang up, I have to drive Buck, but I'll be there soon, just hold on.”

Steve was in his building's car garage, opening the door to his Land Rover and starting it.

“M'sorry,” was all Bucky said, before hanging up.

 

The club was still pretty busy when Steve got there, but he cut to the front of the line, glaring down the bouncer who recognized him after a moment. It was the only time in his life he was happy to have a well known face. He made a beeline for bathroom, pushing through the throng of people a little more forcefully than he probably should have. 

The bathroom was empty.

Steve swore as he pushed the door back open, almost running into a waitress, who gave him the stink eye for all of two seconds.  
“Oh wow, you're-” she started, only for Steve to cut her off.  
“Are these the only bathrooms?” he asked, looking around the dimly lit, crowded club to see if he could catch glimpse of Bucky.  
“Uh, yeah.”  
“Shit,” he swore, running a hand through his hair, “I'm looking for my friend, he's a little shorter than me, shoulder length brown hair, pretty built?”

The waitress shrugged.

“I see a lot of that around here,” she said with a nervous laugh.  
“He called me saying he thought someone slipped something into his drink.”

She blanched.

“Yeah, you know what actually, the cops dragged some sleaze out of here like ten minutes ago. The bouncers had detained him. They probably have your friend in the back office unless they called an ambulance. Follow me.” 

The girl led him around the edge of the dance floor and down a hallway marked “employees only” before stopping at a door an knocking. Steve couldn't help but notice a fully packed stretcher sitting in the hallway. Apparently they had called an ambulance. A big guy in a black polo cracked the door and looked down at the girl. 

“What Katie?”  
“That guy called hi friend I guess,” the waitress, Katie, said, thumbing over her should at Steve. 

The bouncer just gave a short nod and opened the door enough for Steve to walk through, closing it behind them. It was slightly crowded in the room, a man Steve guessed was the manager was sitting ashen in a corner while two EMT's looked over Bucky. He was slouching into a worn looking couch, insisting he didn't need to go to the hospital, only to stop when he saw Steve, a lazy smile breaking out. 

“Steve!”  
His words were slightly slurred and he looked ready to pass out. The EMT's turned to look, both of them raising eyebrows. 

“Um, hi, sorry he called me so I figured I'd come down and get him,” Steve said, trying to roll with how the evening was panning out.  
“He's refusing to go to the hospital,” one of the EMT's said, scowling.  
“Does he need to?” Steve asked, he wasn't one to force people into a hospital if they didn't want it and didn't really need it.

That got him duel eye rolls. 

“Hate hospitals,” came Bucky's half conscious argument from behind the two medics.  
“Technically he can refuse, but seeing as he's not exactly in a right state of mind we can force him,” the smaller of the two said, crossing her arms.  
“Though he would mostly be going in overnight for observation anyways,” the other said, biting her lip.

Steve looked between the two of them and then down to where Bucky was trying valiantly not to fall asleep on the couch. 

“If he doesn't want to go to the hospital I can take him home with me and watch over him tonight,” Steve offered, giving the two of him his smile he used when was trying to manipulate people.

“No hospital,” Bucky's piped up again, words slurring terribly.  
That seemed to calm the two EMT's down enough to pull out refusal of care paperwork, Bucky somehow managed to sign it, even though Steve wasn't sure if it was exactly legal with the state he was in. The manager was mumbling something about being sued when Steve hauled Bucky's arm over he shoulder and helped him out of the back door.

The ride home was short, but even so, by the time Steve pulled back into his apartment's parking garage, Bucky was passed out in the passenger seat. When trying to wake Bucky up didn't really work, Steve decided it would be easier just to carry him instead. He unbuckled the seat-belt and wrangled Bucky so that Steve could hoist him onto his back, kicking the car door shut with his foot.

Steve exited the elevator from the garage, stepping into the lobby of the building, causing the young woman behind the front desk to start.

“Is he OK?” she asked, rising from her seat.

“He just had a little too much,” Steve lied, smiling bashfully.

“Do you need any help?”

“Actually, could you come up and unlock my door? I don't want to risk dropping him.”

The girl nodded eagerly, crowding into the elevator, staring a little as they rode up; she unlocked Steve's door and handed him his key back, wishing him a good night before retreating back down the hallway. Steve hiked Bucky higher onto his back so he was able to support him with just one arm in order to disarm the security system. He walked back through his apartment to his room, gently setting Bucky down onto his bed, contorting himself so he could hold Bucky up and turn to face him at the same time.

“Bucky, you gotta wake up a little,” Steve insisted, holding him up by his upper arms.

Bucky's eyes cracked slightly and he blinked slowly, “Steve?”

“Yeah Bucky, we're back at my apartment, I'm gonna find you some clean clothes to change into, do you think you can manage that on your own?”

Steve flushed when Bucky fell forward into his chest, his hands weakly coming up to rest at Steve's sides.

“M'sorry Steve,” he slurred, whining a little as his hands tightened their hold on Steve's shirt.

“I'm telling you everything is fine Buck, you gotta lean back though or you're going to fall when I move.”

Bucky decided that meant for him to flop back against the mattress, groaning as he did. Steve took that as his cue to go find some clothes for Bucky to sleep in. He pulled out a shirt and some gym shorts, setting them back on the bed next to Bucky, who appeared to be sleeping again. Sighing, he stooped to start undoing Bucky's shoes, slipping them and his socks off of his feet. He swallowed thickly, the sight of Bucky's bare feet a little too intimate for his comfort.

“Come on, we gotta get you changed Bucky,” Steve urged, nudging Bucky's leg.

“Tired,” was all Bucky managed, curling onto himself.

“I know, but as soon as you change I'll let you be.”

At that, Bucky lazily tugged his shirt off without sitting up, Steve blushed, turning to give him privacy. After a few moments he peaked around his shoulder to make sure Bucky was done. He was still curled up on the bed, this time in the clothes Steve had given him, his own sweaty articles were strewn around Steve's bed. Bucky grumbled a little when Steve moved him so he could get him under the covers, but he finally settled, hugging the comforter to his chin. He stood for a moment, watching Bucky as he fell into sleep, making sure his breathing was even.. Steve found some paper and wrote out a short note for Bucky for when he woke up, figuring he might not remember much, and finally grabbed some clothes for himself before sliding out of the room.

It took a while for Steve to calm down enough to relax into the couch, but eventually his exhaustion won out and he fell asleep. 

 

The morning sun creeping through the living room blinds woke Steve up earlier than he would have liked, but once he was awake, he conceded to getting up. He quietly checked on Bucky, who was still passed out, sprawled onto his back and snoring a little; content that he was alive, Steve walked into the kitchen. Breakfast was something Steve had no problems with, mostly because it was hard to fuck up eggs and bacon, so that was what he started cooking, allowing the cathartic feeling of cooking to pull him farther and farther away from the idea of hunting down the guy from last night and doing something illegal.

Thanks to his enhanced hearing, Steve could hear Bucky ruffling around in the sheets on his bed some ten minutes later. When he turned his attention from the stove, Bucky was standing in a daze in by the breakfast bar, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“Steve, what the _fuck_ happened last night?” Bucky asked, looking bewildered.

Steve turned the stove off, dumping the scrambled eggs onto the plates he had set out and held one in Bucky's direction.

“Do you remember anything?” Steve returned, motioning to the couch with his chin and following Bucky when he walked over.

They sat, Bucky pretzeling his legs and setting his plate in the pit of them, frowning.

“I remember going out, that's for sure, but I didn't even have that much to drink. There was a guy, I remember that and then... nothing really.”

“You called me from the bathroom of the club saying he had slipped you something.”

Bucky's eyes got wide, “Oh shit, yeah. I vaguely remember the bathroom and feeling scared.”

Steve sighed, pushing at a strip of bacon, “Yeah, by the time I got there the club seemed to have interfered, though I don't really know at what point.” 

Bucky shoved a whole strip of bacon into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“I'm pretty sure nothing happened, I remember the bouncer finding me in the bathroom I think pretty much after I called you. He probably thought I was completely shitfaced.”  
“I didn't talk to them much besides trying to convince the EMT's to not take you to the hospital, which you were adamant about,” Steve explained, gaining a sheepish smile from Bucky.  
“I don't like hospitals, so really, thank you for coming when I called.”

“Of course I came, why wouldn't I?”

“I mean, I'd _like_ to think we're friends Steve, but that still doesn't obligate you to come to my rescue.”

“We are friends,” Steve insisted, maybe a little too quickly, “And besides, I wasn't obligated, I was worried, I had to make sure you were safe.”

“Well, thank you. That's definitely the last time I go out by myself though.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes while Steve stewed on the one thing that had been biting at him since he had settled in last night once Bucky was safe.

“Buck?”

“Yeah Stevie?”

Steve swallowed a mouthful of orange juice, “Are you, I mean... you were at a gay club, were you...” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Bucky interrupted, putting Steve out of his awkward misery.

“OK.”

“I wasn't trying to hide it from you, just so you know. The timing just didn't pan out. I didn't want to invade on your moment when you came out to me and then you got called away and then you weren't feeling well. I had no idea how to bring it back up without just blurting out, “Hey Steve, I'm bisexual”, you know?”

Steve nodded, “No, I get it, thanks for telling me now.”

“You mean last night when I called you from a gay club?” Bucky joked, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

They laughed together, the atmosphere relaxing again, and went back to eating.

 

When they finished Steve took their plates and rinsed them off, leaving them in the sink in lieu of the dishwasher for the time being. Bucky was stretching as he looked out the large living room windows, his borrowed shirt riding up to reveal the small of his back.

Steve looked away.

“If you want you can use my shower, I can let you borrow some more clothes and take you home afterwards.”

Bucky hummed to himself and nodded, “That sounds great actually, I feel super gross.”

The two of them walked back to Steve's room, pausing by his closed studio door (a room Steve hadn't been in for a while as it were) so Steve could pull a towel from the linen closet across from it. He showed Bucky the bathroom and got an earful for his trouble.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me Steve?! How is your bathroom bigger than your damn kitchen?”

He had his arms spread out, giving Steve a mean look as he took in the large room; there was a jacuzzi tub as well as a shower, which was fulling tiled save for the glass door. A large mirror covered a portion of the wall by the toilet, sitting above a long counter that held the sink and a plethora of drawers. Steve would willing admit that the bathroom was a big reason he picked the place, after sharing a toilet and shower with half his complex in the forties, he relished in filling the large tub and felt only slightly guilty at wasting so much water.

“So we don't have the same priorities.” Steve said, with a shrug.

“Almost,” Bucky mumbled, looking at the tub a little forlornly.

Steve set the towel down on the counter for Bucky as he walked back toward the shower.

“Jesus Christ Steve, you could fit an orgy in this shower,” he crowed, scowling.

“What I do in my personal time is no one's business,” Steve teased, gaining a deep belly laugh from Bucky.

“OK there dirty grandpa, leave me so I can get emotional over your bathroom in peace.”

“Let me just grab you some clothes real quick.”

Bucky waited while Steve fished around for a pair of jeans he thought might fit Bucky and grabbed a shirt at random, setting them near the towel and telling Bucky to just shout if he needed anything. Steve found his way back into the kitchen to finish cleaning the dishes and enjoying the idea of existing in the same space as Bucky. He allowed himself to imagine, for just a second, a time when Bucky commonly used his shower, because he was at Steve's apartment in the morning. The thought of it was all very domestic.

When the dishes were done he wandered back into his room, figuring he had time to change himself while Bucky finished his shower. He had already changed into a pair of jeans and was looking for a particular shirt, somehow having completely missed the sound of the shower turning off. The door opened and Bucky shouted his name, before realizing Steve was in the same room, huffing a soft “oh”.

“What's up?” Steve asked, turning slightly.

“Sorry, do you uh, have a comb or something? Two-in-one shampoo and conditioner is a lie and doesn't work for people with real hair, so I need to comb the rats nest I now have,” Bucky complained, smiling as he gestured to his damp, tangled hair.

“Oh yeah, hold on.”

Steve walked across the room, Bucky stepping back so that he could fit through the door into the humid bathroom. He opened a drawer and pulled out one of the many combs he had accumulated, turning to hand it to Bucky, who looked a bit like a deer in headlights.

“Thanks,” he squeaked, looking everywhere but at Steve, who raised an eyebrow.

“You alright?”

“Yup, never better, just let me fix this mess and we can go,” Bucky said in a rush.

He still wasn't looking at Steve, who chose not to question it anymore and left the bathroom to continue his search for a shirt.

Oh.

 _OH_.

Steve gripped the edge of his dresser tightly, the wood groaning under his strength as he felt his whole body go hot; he didn't much care what shirt he wore after that, anything to cover up the piercing Steve had completely forgotten about.

-

 

“Wait,” Natasha said, stopping Steve with a finger, “You mean to tell me he saw your nipple piercing and _didn't_ immediately jump you?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Christ Nat, that's all you got out of that whole story?”

He had just recounted his weekend to Natasha, who had apparently not taken away what he had wanted from the whole thing.

“If you wanted me to be glad he likes men I figured that he did. You forget how good I am at reading people Steve. I'm more concerned with the money I owe Clint now, I was sure he wouldn't be able to keep himself in check any longer if he saw your patriotically pierced nipple.”

“His _what_?!” came Tony's voice, the man following it into the common kitchen shortly after.

Steve groaned, mortified.

“Please tell me I heard that right.” Tony begged, looking like the happiest person in the world at the moment.

“Yes Tony, I have my nipple pierced.” Steve sighed.

“We match!” was all the other man cried, before leaving just as swiftly as he had come in.

They watched him go, both having long given up on trying to understand Tony.

-

 

Steve figured he was in the clear by the time he and Bucky sat down Tuesday night to eat the Shepard's pie that Steve made (pretty much by himself). He should have known better.

“So since when have you had your nipple pierced?” Bucky asked, right after Steve had taken a sip of his water.

Cue spit take.

Bucky jumped up, laughing, and rushed around the breakfast bar to get some paper towels to mop up the mess Steve had made.

“Jeez Steve, no need to be so dramatic about it,” Bucky teased, smiling brightly after he had sat back down with his food.

Steve's face was still red as he stared at his plate, wishing a hole would open up in the ground to swallow him (he quickly took it back because now-a-days that was all too real a possibility).

“Shut up Jerk,” he grumbled, glaring at Bucky.

“Aw, don't be so mad, m'sorry Stevie.”

“No you're not.”

“No, you're right, I'm not. Seriously though, nipple piercing?”

“I got it the same day I got my tattoo, it just kinda happened,” he sighed.

Bucky got a contemplative look on his face, before glancing over at Steve out of the corner of his eyes.

“Well go you. It suits you pretty well,” he said, returning quickly to eating his food.

Steve couldn't think of anything to say back, so he just went back to staring at his food, mind churning.

-

 

Thursday was the last lesson and Steve got to choose what he wanted to cook. While he wanted to have the last day to just himself and Bucky, he also really wanted to invite the others over and try to redo the initial meal that had started the whole thing. When he ran the idea past Bucky, he was on board, saying that it sounded like a great idea. Steve decided to do a salad rather than try to fit cooked spinach into the meal like he had the first time and settled on homemade macaroni to complete the meal.

When the doorbell rang for the second time that night, Steve was standing over the stove, watching the pasta, so he looked over his shoulder to ask Bucky to answer the door. He heard Sam greeting Bucky once the door was opened and listened as Natasha and Clint introduced themselves. Sam rounded on the kitchen first, a six pack of beer in hand, which he put into the fridge, giving Steve a small side hug before moving away.

“Wow, I figured Bucky was actually cooking and letting you take the credit,” Sam joked, prying the top off of one of the bottles.

“Nah, Steve's really learned a lot,” Bucky defended as he came back from talking with Nat and Clint.

Natasha slid into the kitchen and under one of Steve's arms, pressing a dry kiss to his cheek, the two had a small conversation without speaking. He smiled at her after they were done staring at each other.

“I'm happy for you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to where Clint was waving his arms around, talking to Bucky.

“Well, I could be happy for you too you know,” she said, smirking.

“Hopefully you'll get the chance to be,” he mumbled lowly, side eyeing her.

Her smile grew and she pressed herself more tightly against his side.

“Aw Steve,” came Clint's whine.

When they turned he was pouting at the two of them.

“Oh hush,” Nat clucked, “You know Steve likes dick and I only like you,” she went on, ducking out of Steve's arm and ushering him into the living room.

Sam followed, the three of them collapsing onto various pieces of furniture, while Bucky stood a little lost looking between the kitchen and the living room.

“Hey Buck, how do I know how much cheese to put in here?” Steve asked, just to get Bucky to stand close to him in order to instruct.

Steve was starting to like the feel of Bucky near him a little too much to keep pretending he wasn't completely mad for the guy.

 

“ _Steve_ ,” Natasha sighed, chewing on her first bite of chicken, “I've never been more proud of you.”

No one else said anything because they were too busy eating, but Clint had a slightly blissed out look and Sam gave Steve a thumbs up. Bucky just smiled at him, plenty used to Steve's cooking by now.

Eventually the novelty had passed and they all started to chat while they crowded his living room, eating dinner. The group flawlessly included Bucky, who had shed his earlier discomfort and was laughing along with Sam while Clint tried to shove a forkful of salad in Nat's mouth, who looked about ready to murder him.

Steve was cleaning up in the kitchen when Sam slipped out, begging off to go see Maria, who had just gotten back from a mission. Natasha winked at him when she and Clint made up some shitty excuse to leave as well, not even ten minutes later. Bucky came in from the living room, helping Steve to finish cleaning up.

“They like you,” he told Bucky, after they were done.

Bucky was packing up his bag and Steve wished he wouldn't leave.

“They're nice, very down to earth.”

The two of them walked to the door together and some irrational part of Steve worried it would be the last time he saw Bucky.

“Thanks for everything Buck, I actually learned a lot. It's nice to have one less thing that freaks me out now.”

Bucky smiled up at Steve after slipping his shoes on, “I'm glad I was able to help then. And uh, I mean, I was hoping we could still hang out maybe. Like I said last weekend, I've come to consider you a good friend Steve.”

“Of course, I might make you cook for me a few times now that you're not teaching me anymore.”

“Oh Steve, you've only begun to learn, I'll have you cooking souffle yet,” Bucky teased, elbowing him softly.

Steve rolled his eyes, trying not to fidget, he wanted to make good on his deal with Natasha, but he was too nervous to even consider asking Bucky to dinner.

“Well,” Bucky sighed, like he was hesitant to leave, “I best get going, I have classes in the morning to teach. I'll see you around Steve.”

“Have a good night Bucky, maybe let me know when you get home?”

Bucky was through the doorway already, but turned to nod at Steve, before waving and heading off; defeated, Steve closed the door and dropped his forehead against it.

He was a coward.

The apartment felt even more empty that night when he walked back from the door, looking around. Steve clenched his hands and groaned loudly, pulling his phone out of the back pocket he had tucked it into, quickly finding Bucky's contact, and pressing the phone to his ear. He turned at the sound of something vibrating against the kitchen counter and walked over to find Bucky's phone sitting on the counter. Steve hung up his own phone and grabbed it, hoping he could catch Bucky if he rushed.

When he yanked the door open Bucky was on the other side, hand raised like he was about to knock, he jumped back a little, startled.

“Oh good, I was worried I wouldn't catch you, but it looks like you realized it was missing,” Steve said, smiling as he held the phone out.

“What?” Bucky asked, before looking down and raising his eyebrows, “Oh, I left my phone. Oops.”

He took it and slipped it into his back pocket as Steve stared at him in confusion.

“If you didn't know you forgot your phone why were you coming back?” Steve asked.

Bucky stilled for a moment and then looked up from the floor to Steve's face, he was chewing on his bottom lip, making it redder than it already naturally was.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Bucky asked.

“No, why, did you want to do something?”

“Yeah. I wanna take you out to dinner Steve.”

“Oh, like a-”

“Like a date.”

Steve stood there in disbelief, wishing he could stop himself from gaping. Bucky seemed to take his pause for rejection though, scrubbing a hand down his face and sighing.

“Shit, I read it wrong. I'm sorry, forget I said anything Steve, I thought, well, nevermind what I thought.”

“I wanna go,” Steve said quickly, causing Bucky to look shocked this time, “You didn't read anything wrong. I only realized you left your phone because I was trying to call you and stop you from leaving so I could come ask you to dinner.”

“Oh, well then. Ha! I beat you to it!”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Real mature Buck.”

“Hey, you're the one going to dinner with me tomorrow, so what does that say about you?”

“I can still change my mind you jerk.”

“Yeah but you won't, ya punk,” Bucky shot back, grinning.

Steve pouted because Bucky was right.

“I'll pick you up at six-thirty, wear something nice-ish.”

“Nice-ish?”

“Like slacks and a collared shirt, no tie though, not that nice.”

Steve smiled, “OK, it's a date.”

“Cool, OK, I'm, actually going to go this time,” Bucky mumbled, his face red now.

“You think you can manage to stay away?” Steve teased.

“Oh good Lord, what have I done?” Bucky laughed, before pressing up on his toes and giving Steve a soft kiss on the cheek. “Tomorrow, text me if you have to go save the world or something.”

“Got it, see you Buck.”

Steve couldn't help but watch Bucky as he walked down the hall, happy to know the attention wasn't unwanted.

-

 

The next night had Steve more nervous than he had been in a long time as he paced his living room, having gotten ready way too early. Natasha had come over to help him pick out clothes and do his hair for him, but she left over twenty minutes ago. When the doorbell finally rang he jumped and wiped his palms on his pants as he walked across the room to pull the door open.

Bucky took his breath away, as cliché as it sounded. He was in a pair of black slacks that fit him rather snugly, they were paired with a dark grey button up with a red sweater layered fashionably over it, sleeves pushed up so his tattoos were on display. His hair looked freshly conditioned, half of it pulled up into a bun, with braided portions of it collected into the part that was pulled back. Bucky's tongue darted out to wet his lips and Steve couldn't help but watch the movement, the silver of his piercing catching in the light. He seemed busy enough checking Steve out (he was in dark blue pants and a button up shirt of a slightly lighter blue, covered in small white polka dots) that he missed Steve staring.

They probably looked like a pair of idiots standing in his doorway staring at each other.

“Jesus Steve, you sure know how to clean up.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence.

“Says you,” Steve mumbled, moving out of his apartment and locking the door.

Bucky just smirked, taking Steve's hand without pause as they walked to the elevator.

 

Steve was taken to one of the nicer restaurants in Brooklyn, a beautifully designed Italian place, at least that was the impression he got from the outside. Bucky valeted the car since there wasn't much parking and again didn't hesitate to take Steve's hand to lead him along.

“This is the place I worked at for a while. I left on good terms, so they told me I always had a table if I wanted it, I'm going to apologize in advance, I've never taken anyone here before, so they'll probably be annoying.”

The inside looked just as nice as the exterior, with a pleasant looking blonde girl greeting them when they walked in. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Bucky, a huge grin splitting across her face when she looked down to see their joined hands.

“Now I know why you asked for a more private booth,” she ribbed, grabbing two menus and motioning for them to follow.

Steve was not surprised to see other patrons staring a bit, but luckily it was the type of place where whipping a phone out to take pictures of a celebrity and his date was frowned upon.

 

In the end, when Steve got over himself, the night proceeded like any other they had spent together. The two of them chatted and laughed together. Bucky got teased by their server and eventually the owner when she came around to say hello. Steve was floating the whole night, excited that the shift in their dynamic didn't change much. They tangled their feet together under the table and besides that the only real difference was all the flirting the two of them were doing. The food was delicious and paired well with the wine Bucky had picked out and by the time they were driving back to his place, Steve wondered where the night had gone.

 

Bucky walked Steve to his door, holding his hand the whole time, their fingers splayed together; Steve thought they fit together rather well.

“I had fun tonight,” Steve said, turning to lean against the outside of his door, tugging Bucky a little closer by their joined hands.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked coyly, looking up at Steve, who hummed, nodding.

“I gotta admit, I'd like to do it again.”

“Would you?”

This time Steve could here the teasing lilt to Bucky's voice.

“Possibly on a regular basis, but uh, that's just me,” Steve finished, less confident than when he started.

He wasn't entirely sure what Bucky was wanting whatever it was happening between the two of them to be. Steve doubted himself a little less when Bucky stepped in even closer.

“I could get on board with doing this on a regular basis,” Bucky said, placing a light kiss to the underside of Steve's chin.

“Can you get on board with me kissing you?” Steve asked, peering down.

“I think I could be convinced.”

Steve took that as yes enough and slid his free hand up to cup Bucky's jaw so that he could tip the shorter man's face up. He paused for only a breath before he finally ( _finally!_ ) covered Bucky's lips with his own. The kiss was pretty chaste, just the two of them testing the waters, until Bucky pressed up on his toes, letting go of Steve's hand so he could loop his arms around his neck and press them together even further. A small whine bubbled up in Steve's throat as they moved against one another, the heat of Bucky's lips warming all of Steve. Sadly, before Steve could swipe his tongue against Bucky's lips, the other man pulled back. His mouth hung open a little, lips sinfully red as he looked up at Steve.

“Did you want to come in, maybe watch a movie?” Steve asked when he got his voice back.

“Steve, if I come in watching a movie is the last thing I will want to do.”

“Isn't that how this works though? I ask you to come in for a movie and we both pretend that it isn't going to lead to sex?”

That had Bucky laughing, hiding his face in Steve's shoulder, his breath creeping through Steve's shirt to warm him further.

“Is that what you want Steve?” Bucky asked, face still hidden.

Steve shrugged, Bucky barely moving.

“I want to blow you in my kitchen, but I also don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to,” he admitted, gaining a deep groan from Bucky for his trouble.

“No, I totally want that, let's skip the movie pretense and get right to that,” Bucky said a little breathless suddenly when he pulled back from Steve's shoulder.

His face was red and his eyes mostly black at that point, so Steve wasted no time in unlocking his door and pulling Bucky inside.

 

Bucky straight out moaned when Steve crowded him against the door once it was closed, slotting their hips together and leaning down to get his mouth on Bucky's again. He was happy to feel that Bucky was already mostly hard, the line of his cock not hidden much thanks to his snug slacks. Steve didn't look, not yet, he just ground down on Bucky's hips again, allowing himself to open his mouth when the tip of Bucky's tongue darted out.

The metal of the tongue ring was slightly cooler than Bucky's actual tongue and Steve whimpered when it clicked against his teeth as Bucky fucked his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve had to watch himself so he didn't grip Bucky's hips too tightly as he gave himself up to Bucky's ministrations.

When they parted again they were both panting a bit; Bucky made eye contact before slowly slipping one of his large thighs between Steve's legs and applying a bit of friction against his aching dick.

“Fuck Steve, you look debauched after just one kiss, you sure you can survive anything else.”

“You'll see just what I can survive,” Steve almost growled, pulling Bucky away from the door and hoisting him up before the other man knew what was happening.

Instinctively Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve's hips, bearing down to create friction between the two of them again. Steve walked as he sucked kisses onto the skin visible around Bucky's collar, before setting him down on the kitchen counter. He stood between Bucky's legs and snaked his hands down, slipping them past the hem of his pants to feel the firm flesh of his ass through his boxer briefs. Bucky whined, trying to get closer to Steve again, but he held him just out of reach, kneading the flesh under his hands.

“You sure _you_ can survive?” Steve shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“If I can't then I'm perfecting fine with dying with your hands on me Stevie. Now, I think you had expressed an interest in this kitchen and my dick.”

Steve laughed, darting forward to kiss Bucky again, before he pulled him off the counter. Bucky took the hint and stood, leaning against the edge, his breathing picking up as Steve ghosted a hand down his torso before palming Bucky's dick through his pants.

“Oh _fuck_! Steve, please, baby-” Bucky cried, his hands coming up to grasp as Steve's shirt for support.

“I got you, don't worry,” Steve assured him, before dropping gracefully down Bucky's body to settle on his knees on the floor.

He'd have to thank Nat for insisting he buy the memory foam kitchen mat which provided some relief from the hard tile beneath him.

Steve trailed his hands up Bucky's clothed thighs, happy to finally be able to touch them, giving the hard muscles under his hands a good squeeze. Bucky took in a shaking breath, his hands now bracing him against the edge of the counter. They looked at each other as Steve undid the buckle of Bucky's belt and then popped the button before dragging the zipper down, taking his time just to see Bucky squirm. It took the two of them to get Bucky's pants down just under his ass and then Steve swatted his hands away when he tried to take his underwear down as well.

“Stop teasing me,” Bucky whined as Steve sucked a bruise on the inside of one of Bucky's thick thighs, a dark smattering of hair covered his legs, which grew denser closer to his groin.

“M'not teasing I'm taking my time,” Steve retorted, grinning against the skin of Bucky's leg.

He had some mercy on Bucky, reaching up to peel down his boxer briefs, settling them along with Bucky's pants, taking in a short breath when he was finally presented with Bucky's cock, hanging heavy and thick between his legs.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, drawing Bucky's attention, “God I knew you'd have a fat dick.”

Bucky whispered a soft “fuck” and the keened high in his throat when Steve finally wrapped a hand around the base of him, sliding his thumb up the bottom of his dick so he could tip it up, get a good look, which was when he saw it: Bucky had his dick pierced.

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me, he breathed, unable to do much more than stare.

“Not your style?” Bucky asked, sounding nervous.

“I didn't even know you could... _Christ_ , you're a God damn work of art.” Steve whined, running his thumb up to slide over the bar that ran parallel, just under the head of Bucky's cock.

Steve looked up so he could see when Bucky was about to respond, picking that exact moment to press forward and get his tongue on the smooth skin, dipping the tip into the slit at Bucky's head. Whatever Bucky said was lost to a moan, which Steve took as his OK to go ahead and suck down as much of Bucky's dick as he could, his nose brushing the coarse hair above Bucky's cock. A hand darted up to tangle into Steve's short hair as Bucky's legs shook.

“Steve. Stevie, oh baby, that's good, so good.” Bucky rambled as Steve worked himself over Bucky's dick for a moment, before stilling himself at the head again.

He ran his tongue up and over the piercing, enjoying the contrast of the metal versus skin, as well as the sound Bucky made as he focused on the one spot. When Bucky's hand started to tighten in Steve's hair, he pulled off completely, blowing softly on the spit slick head, making Bucky shiver. Steve returned to lavishing Bucky's thighs with bruising kisses as he slowly jacked him, rolling his thumb along the piercing on each upstroke.

“You doing alright up there?” Steve asked, his voice teasing.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, a whimper pushing out of his throat before he spoke.

“God, I may have underestimated you Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve laughed, pressing a kiss to the piercing, shifting his head so he could mouth at the underside of Bucky's dick before pulling off again, “You definitely did Buck, but that's OK, you'll learn.”

This time when he pulled Bucky back into his mouth he worked up a steady rhythm, taking the hand that had been braced on Bucky's leg to palm his own dick where it pressed painfully against his pants. He only touched himself for a moment, moving the hand to grab Bucky's nuts, rolling them between his fingers. That had Bucky's sobbing, begging Steve not to stop.

“Please baby, please. Oh my God Steve, oh God, I'm gonna come baby,” he babbled, hand almost painful where it was threaded through Steve's hair.

Steve would have smiled if he could, but being unable to thanks to being stuffed full of Bucky's fat cock, he settled for humming nice the low, the action reverberating in his chest. One last flick of his tongue over the piercing and Bucky was crying out, shaking as he held Steve still to spill into his mouth. When Steve had finished sucking Bucky through the aftershocks he pulled off, moving his jaw around to work the soreness from it as he stood up to support Bucky, who slumped bonelessly against Steve.

Bucky mumbled something against Steve's skin, only to have to repeat it when Steve couldn't hear him.

“Said m'sorry for coming in your mouth,” Bucky sighed, blinking slowly.

“If I didn't want you to I wouldn't have let you Buck,” Steve assured him, skating his fingertips along Bucky's clothed arms.

A hum reverberated in Bucky's chest, which Steve guessed was his response, he wasn't about to try and interrupt Bucky's post orgasm bliss.

“Bedroom?” Bucky asked, after another moment or two, “I wanna get my mouth on you, but I don't think I can remain vertical for much longer.”

Steve chuckled, stepping back slowly to make sure Bucky was alright, he watched as Bucky yanked his pants up so he could walk, and then took Bucky's hand to lead the way.

 

The room was dark, so Steve dropped Bucky's hand to move about in order to find the switch for the two lamps by his bed. Once the soft light allowed them to see better he turned back to find Bucky still standing in the doorway, staring at his bed.

“I was pretty worried last weekend when I woke up here, I was scared I had drunkenly come on to you or something. I was afraid I had fucked things up before I even had a real chance,” he said, not looking away from the large bed, “But then I told myself that you wouldn't sleep with me if I were drunk, so it must have been something else.”

Steve crowded back into Bucky's space, reaching past him to shut the bedroom door, all while leaning down to kiss him.

“It was difficult, putting you in my bed when I couldn't join you.” Steve said once he had pulled back.

The two of them stared at each other for a charged moment, eyes sweeping across each other's faces and slowly, against Steve's will, doubt crept into his mind. He was scared because he truly liked Bucky. Steve felt that, given enough time, he would come to love the man, but he knew that his life was hectic and that a relationship would have to be worked for. He was such a public figure that the two of them would have little privacy if they went out together, that Bucky would be criticized and questioned. Steve felt like he was bending over a precipice, hoping not to fall.

“What're you thinking Stevie?” Bucky said quietly, resting his cheek against Steve's shoulder.

“I'm just wondering, I mean, what do you want out of this, if there is a _this_.”

“There is definitely a _this_ Steve and I want there to be. I want to be with you, I want to label it, and I want to support you. I like you, a lot. I hope that's OK. And I know we are probably moving a little quickly, but we're perfectly consenting adults that only have to go as far as both of us are comfortable with tonight or ever”

Bucky said his small monologue without lifting his head from Steve's shoulder, his breath warming the fabric of Steve's shirt as he spoke.

“What if it ends up not being worth it? I don't want you to be overwhelmed with the public, because as much as I wish it weren't true, they will be involved. And what about my job, what if I put you at risk?”

Steve felt Bucky shrug against him, “I can't answer those questions right now. All I can do is say that we'll figure it out together. I'm mostly sure that the “dating a public figure” thing is something I can handle. As for the rest of it, we'll deal with those problems as they come up because I sure as shit can't see the future.”

“Did I ruin the moment?” Steve mumbled, rubbing circles in the small of Bucky's back.

“Not hardly, talking is good, that's the only way we'll make this work,” Bucky said, before pulling back, “Speaking of which, I kinda wanted to ask, uh, I mean- How far have you gotten, you know?” Bucky was looking at his feet now, ears red.

“About as far as we'e gone already. I've been fingered, but that's the extent of it. It was dangerous, back in my day.”

Bucky nodded, chewing his lip, “And tonight, how far would you like for things to go tonight? Just so I know where to stop.”

Steve smirked, taking Bucky's strong jaw in both of his hands and tilted his face up so he could kiss the frown off his face. The kiss was languid, their lips melding against each other, tongues brushing lightly; a sigh escaped into the air and Steve was pretty sure it was him who let it go. His dick was twitching back into full hardness when he pulled back, Bucky looking at him through hooded eyes, mouthing hanging open.

“Well, I'd really like it if you fucked me, but only if that's what you want as well.”

Bucky whined, high in his throat, his eyes fluttering closed as his hands gripped tightly at Steve's sides.

“God yes,” Bucky breathed, his chest heaving slightly with a deep breath.

“Good. So, did you want to stand here and keep making out for a while longer or-?”

Bucky shook his head, “Bed, go sit,” he instructed, making the air in the room shifted.

Steve raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, padding over to his bed and plopping down at the end of it, watching Bucky as he pulled his sweater over his head. He stood just out of Steve's reach, slowing unbuttoning his shirt, eyes on Steve's the whole time. Steve swallowed thickly when Bucky let the shirt slide from his arms. Bucky's body was just how Steve had imagined it, thick with muscles that danced as he moved. He didn't have a narrow waist like Steve did, his hips only slightly wider than the trunk of him. His tattoos ended over his shoulders, filler stars dotted the edge of his collarbones, but went no further. There was a beautifully thick blanket of dark hair that covered his chest, which brought Steve to realize that Bucky must shave his arms, because there the only part of him where Steve hadn't seen hair so far. It thinned out closer to his abdomen, absent across his hard earned abs, only to thicken again to form a small trail from his bellybutton, disappearing under the pants that had been pulled back up.

He wanted to touch Bucky, but assumed from the distance that this wasn't allowed, so he stayed on the bed, fisting his hands in the comforter to keep from reaching out. Buck smiled, dipping his thumbs into the edge of his slacks, slipping them down his gorgeous thighs, leaving his briefs to cover where Steve had, minutes earlier, had his mouth. Steve could, however, see some of the bruises he had sucked into Bucky's thighs, rising in him a flush of pride. Bucky looked so good with Steve's marks on him.

Finally, Bucky sauntered forward, nudging Steve's knees apart so he could stand in between them. Steve reached up to touch Bucky, only to have his hand smacked away.

“No touching, it's my turn,” he chastised, making Steve pout.

“I wanna touch you,” Steve said, petulant.

“I know you do baby, but you don't get to right now, you did your touching earlier, I'll let you know when you can touch me again, for now, keep your hands to yourself.”

Steve grumbled, but did as he was told, dropping his hand back to the bed, looking up at Bucky where he stood above him. Bucky started on the buttons of Steve's own shirt, his face gentle as he worked them, before pushing the shirt open without taking it off. He breathed out, licking his lips as he brought his hands up to palm across Steve's chest.

“Jesus sweetheart, you are something else.” Bucky mumbled, continuing the glide of his hands until they were pushing Steve's shirt off, Steve moving only to allow the article of clothing to slip from his arms.

It was discarded to the floor with Bucky's own clothing. Steve watched Bucky as his eyes roved along his torso, his hands skating along Steve's arms. He was so gentle that it made Steve's heart ache a little, having only been treated to quick suck jobs behind queer clubs, never getting fully seduced like he was at the moment.

“And _this_ , good God,” Bucky groaned, bringing a thumb up to swipe at Steve's left nipple, jostling the blue ring as he did.

Steve dropped his head back and moaned.

“I about lost my mind when I saw you shirtless for the first time, your God damn nipple pierced like it was the most natural thing in the world.”

Bucky flicked at the ring with his thumb as he spoke, before catching it between his thumb and index finger, giving it a small tug. Steve arched his back, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure shuddered down his spine, his dick aching.

“You would have sensitive fucking nipples, huh baby?”

Steve just nodded, mouth hanging open, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle Bucky without going crazy.

Bucky diverted his attention to Steve's pants, undoing the belt and working them open, before motioning for him to move so that Bucky could pull them off. He kneeled in front of Steve then, taking off his socks, tossing them to join the rest of the clothing. The kisses that Bucky sucked into Steve's legs made him keen, a whimper was cut off when Bucky moved to full height again, bending to cover Steve's mouth with his own. It was incredibly difficult not to touch Bucky as the other man ran his hands over any part of Steve he could reach.

“Scoot back sweetheart,” Bucky instructed, following Steve up the bed as he settled back onto his pillows, chest heaving as Bucky covered Steve's body.

Most of Bucky's hair was still up, so it didn't fall into his face as he leaned over Steve, peppering his throat with light kisses, finally resting his weight on Steve's legs so he could still lavish him with his mouth sucking along Steve's pecs. Bucky looked up to catch Steve's eye as he lowered his mouth over his pierced nipple.

“Oh shit, Bucky-” Steve cried as Bucky tongued at the ring, catching it in his teeth to pull.

Steve was arching up into Bucky's mouth, hands pressed to the headboard so he wouldn't tangle his hands into Bucky's hair. Bucky tugged the ring again, before releasing it and soothing the pebbled skin with the flat of his tongue, dragging his own ring across Steve's nipple as he did.

“Bucky I- fuck, please,” he babbled, flexing his fingers.

“Tell me what you want Stevie.” Bucky said, his voice rough, attention still focused on Steve's nipples.

“Wanna kiss you,” Steve breathed, trying to gain some friction on Bucky's thigh.

“So sweet baby, course I'll kiss you,” Bucky praised, moving over him again to lay his mouth on Steve's.

Steve felt so pliant under Bucky, sighing as he was kissed and touched, Bucky's hands working their way down his body to palm lightly at Steve's clothed dick.

“Oh,” Steve breathed, trying to follow Bucky's hand when he took it away.

Bucky chuckled lowly, dropping kisses to Steve's face, “Don't worry baby, you'll get what you want, m'just taking my time.”

Steve groaned, his arms going a little cold as his heart worked to pump blood up to them where they still gripped the headboard.

“Buck, oh please, lemme touch you.” Steve begged, swallowing as Bucky tongued along his throat, the ring through his tongue gliding over Steve's damp flesh.

“Go ahead sweetheart, you can touch me, nothing below my shoulders though OK? N'do me a favor, take my hair down.”

Steve nodded, his motions jerky as he lowered his stiff arms, sliding the fingers of one hand through Bucky's hair, while the other carefully pulled the hair tie out. He slid the elastic onto his own wrist and carded his fingers through Bucky's hair, the other man humming in content the entire time.

“Thanks Stevie,” Bucky said, dropping his hips to grind their cocks together, making Steve's mouth drop open.

He sat back after only a moment of blessed friction, causing Steve to groan, and moved to pull his own briefs off. Bucky kneeled over Steve, who's gaze had locked onto his cock, hard again, but too heavy to bob up to Bucky's stomach. Instead it hung against Bucky's leg, just off of his hair spattered skin, trying valiantly to lift itself against it's own weight. Bucky leaned down long enough to catch Steve's chin.

“My face is up here baby,” he joked, leaning back again and making sure Steve was watching his eyes this time.

Bucky wrapped a hand around himself, licking his lips as he gave himself a slow tug, pre-come dribbling out of the head to drop, warm against Steve's stomach; the glint of his cock piercing just visible due to the angle. After a moment of jacking himself in a private show, just for Steve, Bucky released himself, his cock slapping against his thigh, so he could pull Steve's briefs off as well.

“Fuck Steve,” Bucky moaned, bringing a hand down onto Steve's dick where it laid against his stomach, giving him a hard squeeze at the base, “Look at you baby, so pretty all laid out for me.”

Steve whined, reaching out in the hopes that Bucky would lean forward again, since he couldn't currently reach anything above Bucky's shoulders, the only place he was told he could touch.

Bucky had mercy on him and rested his weight on one hand, the other having released Steve's cock to tease the angry red tip of it. Steve brushed his hands along Bucky's face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones. He was only granted a moment to touch, before Bucky moved away again, hands cupping Steve's pecs, thumbs teasing his nipples again, making him sigh.

“Where do you keep your lube baby?” Bucky asked, conversationally, not letting up on Steve's nipples.

“First drawer,” Steve answered, pointing to the bedside table to his right.

Bucky stretched, managing to keep one hand on his left nipple as he fished around, coming back with Steve's bottle of lube and the condoms he had put there just this morning (he was _very_ optimistic). These were set aside so Bucky could stoop to suck on Steve's nipples before Bucky started down his body, kissing and licking his way towards Steve's dick. He had been watching Bucky, but dropped his head back against the pillows when Bucky took the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking lightly and teasing Steve with the metal of his piercing. Surprisingly when Bucky pulled back, he didn't stop, instead he shifted down so he was laid out on his stomach, skating his fingers along the insides of Steve's thighs.

“You ever been eaten out Stevie?” Bucky asked, causing Steve to lift his head in another attempt to see Bucky.

He was looking up Steve's body, one eyebrow raised. Steve managed little more than to shake his head.

“Can I?”

Steve trembled, nodding.

“Relax baby, I'm gonna make this so good for you, I promise, just trust me, OK?”

“I trust you,” Steve breathed, dropping his head back to the pillow and expelling a puff of air.

He had no idea why he was so nervous suddenly, to have Bucky's mouth on him, but he was.

Bucky brought his hands to the underside of Steve's thighs, pushing enough for Steve to get the hint and pull his knees towards his chest. An annoyed grumble came from the end of the bed before one of Bucky's hands was thrust out, hand outstretched.

“Hand me a pillow.”

Steve did, shifting when Bucky nudged him so the pillow could be slid under his hips.

“Much better,” Bucky said, seemingly to himself, as he put his hand back on Steve's thigh to hold his legs apart.

Steve felt truly exposed with his hips raised, legs spread, his ass on display for Bucky, who was supporting himself on his elbows as he looked at Steve's asshole. The first touch of Bucky's tongue was light, a hint of what was to come, with Steve already keening at the simple touch. He tried to even his breathing, to relax like Bucky had told him, but his mind was buzzing with nerves and excitement. Bucky went all in with his next movement, licking a solid line from Steve's hole up to his balls, the metal of his tongue ring adding a pleasant sensation to the action.

“Hold your legs sweetheart,” Bucky said, waiting for Steve to grip the backs of his own knees before he removed his hands from their place on Steve's thighs.

A flush rushed through Steve, the position was almost embarrassing, but he figured out why Bucky had told him to do with when Bucky's thumbs pulled his ass-cheeks the rest of the way apart before leaning in again. This time he was less tentative as he tongue pressed against Steve's asshole, a cry punched it's way out of Steve at the feeling of the muscle fucking against his hole.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Steve groaned, trying to find his breath as Bucky swirled his tongue around Steve, the ring skirting the rim of his hole.

Bucky pulled back just enough to blow cool air on the wet skin, making Steve shiver, before speaking.

“God you're so sensitive all over babydoll, s'drivin' me crazy,” he murmured, flicking his gaze up to Steve's.

Steve was unable to respond thanks to Bucky diving back in, this time, slowly pushing a finger in as he tongued at Steve's rim. He slid his finger in only enough to slip the tip of his tongue in along with it, laving at Steve's asshole as he squirmed, having no leverage to thrust himself down onto Bucky's face like he wanted to. Bucky went on in that fashion, tonguing at the inside of Steve, slipping a second finger in once he was loose enough and scissoring his fingers to get his tongue deeper.

The feeling of an impending orgasm had Steve crying out, breathing short like “oh's” as the pressure mounted. Bucky caught on to what was happening, and snatched up the base of Steve's dick, squeezing hard as he pulled back, making Steve sob for the pain of being denied his release.

“Oh please, Bucky, I can't- please, please, I need it,” he begged, rolling his head about, but not dropping his legs from where he held them.

“Don't you want to come with my cock in you baby?” Bucky asked, hand still firm about the base of Steve's dick.

“I can go again, I promise, please Buck, I wanna come so bad it hurts,” he couldn't hold his position any longer and dropped his legs, planting his feet on the bed and trying to rut against Bucky's hand.

“If I let you come now you have to get off without touching yourself when I fuck you, can you do that sweetheart, think you can come untouched for me?”

Steve was nodding frantically, not really caring if he could actually get off without touching himself, he had never tried before, but the need to come in that moment was too much for him.

“OK sweetheart, it's OK, I got you,” Bucky said, but didn't release his hold on Steve, “Grab the lube baby and open it up for me.”

It took a second to find the bottle where it had moved to, but Steve grabbed it with shaking hands and popped the top, pouring a bit onto Bucky's palm where he held it out. Steve squirmed, whining and huffing out inpatient breathes as Bucky rubbed his hand against itself. A moment later two fingers were probing at Steve's hole again, slipping in easily this time thanks to the lube and Steve's slack rim. When Bucky finally released his grip on Steve's dick, using the hand that had been delaying his orgasm to slowly jack up his cock. Bucky hummed and pulled the hand back for a second, spitting on it, never stopping the fingers that were inside Steve.

Bucky added a third finger as he started to jerk Steve off again, curling the fingers to drag against his prostate every now and again. Steve was sobbing, having to work back up to the orgasm that had been staved off, taking in short breathes as he clenched around the fingers in him.

“Bucky, Bucky, oh _God_ , I'm gonna come, please, please,” he whined, his hands grasping fruitlessly at the comforter.

“I got you Stevie, you're so good baby, you can come, come on sweetheart, show me, I wanna see it, wanna see you come babydoll,” Bucky praised, which was all that Steve needed to get him over the edge.

Steve arched up, hands pressing into the bed as he bared down on Bucky's fingers, mouth hanging open in a silent cry as he shot off so strongly that he caught himself on the chin. Bucky stroked him through the orgasm, fingers never stopping their slow drag in and out of his ass. He whined, trying to pull away when his dick got too sensitive, Bucky still thumbing at the head of it. Slowly he pulled his fingers out, leaving Steve oddly empty, so he could move up his body and kiss his pliant lips. Steve was in a daze, hands now limp at his sides as his dick softened a bit against him.

“Jesus Steve, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen,” Bucky laughed, licking the drops of come that dotted his chin and neck.

Steve just lifted his hand and ran it through Bucky's hair, sighing.

“We don't have to keep going baby, you look worn out.”

“No,” Steve protested, shaking his head for good measure, “I just need a minute, I want your dick in me tonight.”

Bucky just chuckled, rolling his eyes as he laid down along Steve's side, skating his fingers along Steve's ribs as he caught his breath. His come was cooling on his stomach, running along the muscles and making him wince. He grumbled when Bucky rolled off the bed, but watched as he went to the bathroom, only to come back with a damp cloth. Bucky sat at his hip as he wiped away the come, his hands gentle as he did. When he was done he just dropped the cloth to the floor before moving to settle himself in between Steve's legs again. He put a grounding hand on Steve's thigh as he slipped three fingers back into Steve's relax hole, making Steve breath out a strangled moan.

“Too much?” Bucky asked.

“No, no. Don't stop, please.”

“I won't sweetheart, gotta get you ready, last thing I wanna do it hurt you,” Bucky said, rubbing soothing patterns in Steve's leg.

He was fingered slowly, Bucky ignoring his prostate this time in lieu of prepping him. By the time he had pushed a fourth finger in, Steve was mostly hard again, baring down now that he had the leverage of his feet on the bed.

“M'good, Bucky, I'm ready come on, I want you in me.”

Bucky stooped to kiss Steve's stomach, easing his fingers out as he reached for a condom.

“Let me know if it's too much Stevie,” Bucky told him, rolling the condom on before slicking himself up and settling between Steve's hips, leaning down on his elbows so he could kiss Steve's brow.

“I will, come on, get that fat cock in me already,” Steve pouted, making Bucky laugh.

Steve brought one of his legs back up, tucking the knee against his chest so Bucky had room to move, and held his breath when he felt the blunt tip of Bucky's dick against his now thoroughly slicked hole.

“Breath,” Bucky murmured, waiting until Steve let out a slow breath to start pushing into him.

It was a stretch, no doubt about it, even after four fingers Steve felt himself strain to adjust to the girth of Bucky, who was whispering praises into Steve's ear as he pressed forward. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but Steve thought he could feel the balls of Bucky's piercing against the inside of him.

“So good baby, you got it, gonna take me so well aren't you sweetheart?”

Steve moaned at the praise, keeping his breathing even, waiting through the soft burn of the stretch as he adjusted to the feeling of Bucky inside of him. When Bucky was seated fully inside Steve he stilled, resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder, bringing one hand up to thumb at Steve's nipple, distracting him from the slight pain he was feeling. He sighed as Bucky fiddled with his nipple ring, laying soft kisses to his shoulder. It only took a moment or two for Steve to feel the burn dissipate, replaced by the feeling of being pleasantly full. Experimentally he thrust himself down, pressing Bucky just slightly deeper into himself, making the man above him hiss.

“Steve,” Bucky said, in a warning tone.

“It's good, I'm good, please move,” he sighed, trying to push himself down again.

Bucky growled low in his chest, pushing himself up onto his hands, the action pressing their hips closer. He replaced Steve's hand where it was holding his knee tucked against him and pulled out incrementally, only to thrust back into Steve in one swift motion.

The movement made Steve cry out, arching up to try and pull Bucky further into him, which seemed to be all the proof Bucky needed that he wasn't feeling any of the stretch anymore. Steve gripped the headboard fiercely as Bucky set a blinding pace, pushing Steve's leg out to the side as he pounded him. Steve was reduced to small sobs, breathing softly with each thrust back into his body.

This went on for countless moments before Bucky stilled long enough to shift and sit up on his shins, moving his hands around to the front of Steve's thigh so he could grip them and yank Steve toward him as he thrust in. The new position beat against Steve's prostate, making him scream (he never spared a thought to his neighbors). When Steve moved to reach for his cock Bucky slapped his hand away, giving a punctuated thrust as he shook his head.

“What did I say earlier?” he ground out.

Steve whimpered high in his throat, wanting some friction against his suddenly aching dick, and cursed his super soldier stamina. He couldn't even thrust himself down to meet Bucky's hips thanks to the other man's hold on his legs, which he thought might have been intentional.

“Bucky,” Steve sobbed, hands hurting for how tightly they were grasping the headboard.

“You asked for this baby, I told you if you came earlier you weren't going to touch yourself when I fucked you,” Bucky said coolly, pulling all the way out on his next withdrawal.

This made Steve cry out, pleading with him not to stop.

“M'sorry, I'll be good, please oh God, just don't stop.”

“You'll get what you want Stevie, come on, turn over.”

Steve did so swiftly, rolling onto his front, ass high in the air as he leaned onto his elbows.

“Hold yourself open,” he was instructed; Steve complied, dropping his face to the pillow so he could reach back and spread himself apart.

A thumb was pressed into him slowly, catching his hypersensitive rim as it was pulled back out, only to be pressed in once more, Bucky whistled lowly.

“Jesus Christ Steve, if only you could see yourself right now,” he sighed, pulling Steve's hole open from the outside with his thumbs.

“Please,” Steve keened, his hips thrusting back.

“Please what baby?”

“Your dick, please, want it back in me Bucky.”

“Oh sweetheart, you'll get it, I told you earlier though, I'm taking my time with you, gotta make this good for you babydoll.”

Steve was given what he wanted only a moment later when Bucky pressed back in, seating himself fully in one motion and this time Steve was _sure_ he could feel the piercing as it slipped past his rim. Bucky gripped Steve's hips, pulling him back onto his dick as he thrust forward. The sound of Bucky's hard thighs slapping against Steve's ass filled the still air in the room, the only other sound was the noises being punched out of Steve with each thrust. A hand came down swiftly on Steve's ass-cheek, making him stutter as the skin stung, Bucky cursing softly behind him.

“Steve, Stevie, you're so good,” he praised, bring the opposite hand across Steve's other cheek, making Steve sob out a hard curse.

“So gorgeous Steve, holding yourself open for me, Jesus Christ, you're debauched,” Bucky babbled, reaching out to grab one of Steve's wrists.

He pulled Steve's hand off of his ass, gripping his wrist so he could yank his arm back, using it as leverage to pound harder into Steve's ass. The movement pulled Steve's shoulder, making his face lift from the pillow slightly. Bucky wasn't strong enough to hurt him, but it did give him a little extra thrusting power. Vaguely, Steve wondered how Bucky was holding off as long as he was, since Steve felt like he could come again anytime, if only he had a little _friction_. Instead his dick swung with the motions of his body as he was fucked.

“You promised baby,” Bucky ground out from behind him, he sounded strained, making Steve wonder if he was staving off his own orgasm until Steve came.

“Stevie, baby, you promised me you could come again.”

“I can!” Steve cried out, rotating his hand so he could grip at the arm that was holding his own.

Bucky released the hand that was holding Steve's hip, using it to move Steve around, nudging his knees further apart so that his hips dropped a little more. The next time he thrust forward, Bucky's cock hit Steve's prostate spot on, making Steve moan. He pulled again on Steve's arm, his other hand grabbing a handful of his ass as he relentlessly pounded against the spot. Steve was reduced to sobs and breathy moans, unable to do anything as his felt the warmth of his orgasm curling in his spine.

“Come on baby,” Bucky urged, the hand on his ass leaving only to return swiftly, sending a jolt through Steve.

Bucky let go of Steve's wrist then, leaning over him, planting his hands on the mattress and mouthing at Steve's ear, thrusts coming in a quicker staccato because of the position.

“Stevie, sweetheart, you close?” Bucky whispered, low and sultry in his ear.

“So close, Bucky- nngh, God, please,” Steve whined.

“Please what? Use your words baby.”

“My nipples,” was all he managed, moaning loudly when Bucky hit his prostate once again.

“I got you baby,” Bucky assured him, left hand moving so he could pinch Steve's pierced nipple.

When he pulled at the ring, twisting it hard, Steve was pushed over once more. He tossed his head back, pushing his ass flush against Bucky as he came all over the bed below him, cock completely untouched like he promised.

“Oh hell,” he heard Bucky breath, stilling for only a moment before he grabbed Steve's ass to chase his own release with stuttering thrusts.

Steve was slack, mouth hanging open as he moaned, aftershocks of his orgasm forcing small drops of come to fall from his dick. He could only hold on to the comforter as Bucky pounded his ass, fingers digging into the flesh. Licking his lips, Steve moved his head just enough that he could look back and see Bucky; he was biting his lip, face flush as he fucked into Steve, eyebrows pulling together at him impending orgasm.

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, making the other man look up.

When their eyes met Bucky's hips faltered before he pushed himself tight against Steve, mouth dropping open so he could let out a deep guttural moan as he came. Steve felt Bucky pump the condom full inside him, closing his eyes and smiling to himself as Bucky collapsed fully against his back, cock still fully seated inside of him.

Bucky was breathing heavy against his back, breathe warming Steve's skin, the weight of him was minimal to Steve, who relished in the closeness of them. A short time later Bucky groaned as he pushed onto his hands, slipping carefully out of Steve, who sighed at the sensation, feeling oddly bare without Bucky's dick inside him. He laid there, cheek against the pillow as the bed moved, he heard Bucky moving around, most likely disposing of the condom. The faucet sounded, Bucky's bare feet padded along the hardwood, the bed dipped again as he joined Steve again.

Steve hummed when Bucky started to thread his fingers through Steve's hair, he turned his head to the side Bucky was on, looking up at the man as he sat next to him.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, smiling down at Steve.

“Oh hi,” Steve returned, laughing slightly, moving his head to kiss Bucky's palm.

“Are you good?” Bucky asked, pushing his bangs away from his forehead.

“Besides the fact that I'm laying in my own come, I'm fantastic.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Well get up then.”

Steve shook his head, “Can't, m'jelly.”

Sighing good naturedly, Bucky scooted to lay down, burrowing under Steve's arm, pressing his nose into Steve's neck.

“That might have been some of the best sex I've ever had,” Bucky said into Steve's neck, licking at a bead of sweat.

Steve shivered, his oversensitive dick twitching with interest.

“I'm sure you're exaggerating,” Steve laughed.

“Hardly. I'm serious Steve, you're fucking gorgeous. And you're really good at getting fucked too.”

Steve reached around a slapped Bucky's ass, making the other man yelp, “Well you're really good at fucking me.”

Bucky laughed happily and Steve considered what kind of flowers to get Natasha for being responsible for this whole damn thing.

 

Later, when they were hydrated and showered, bed cleaned of Steve's drying spunk, the two of them lounged together, eating out of a carton of mixed berries. Steve thought about how he got to where he was and sat in a bit of awe. When he woke up in the future he had never considered that he might meet someone who he wanted to acutally be with, but sitting with Bucky in his bed, properly fucked, Steve realized that for the first time since waking up he was really truly happy.

“What're you thinking about?” Bucky asked, chewing slowly on a blackberry.

“Just about how I'm happy,” Steve answered, looking down at where Bucky was tucked into his side.

Bucky reached up to feed him a raspberry, Steve took the tips of Bucky's fingers into his mouth with the berry, making the other man hum low in his throat as he tongued at the digits.

“That's good, my pride would probably be wounded if you weren't happy after the pounding I gave you.”

Steve laughed, pulling Bucky tighter against him and dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I'm just glad that is was you they sent to teach me to cook.”

“Yeah well, Natasha had something to do with that, she was pretty intimidating when she came to the office,” Bucky said, reaching for a strawberry.

“She's never going to let me live this down, she loves being right,” Steve sighed.

“What was she right about?”

“You being my type.”

Bucky smirked triumphantly, licking some juice from his fingers.

“I am pretty irresistible,” he said, moving so he could set the now empty container on the bedside table.

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling Bucky down with him to lay on the bed, the clean comforter bunched at their feet.

“You're gonna stay the night, right?” Steve asked, moving some of Bucky's hair out of his face.

“Steve, you've cooked for me for the past month and just gave me the best sex of my life, you're gonna have a hard time getting rid of me sweetheart.”

Steve's heart fluttered at the name, he secretly loved all the pet names Bucky had called him that night. Instead of answering he groped around until he could reach the comforter and pulled it over the two of them, sighing as Bucky tucked himself back into Steve's side. They exchanged a few lazy kisses before slipping off to sleep.

 

-

Steve sat in his studio, having started painting again recently, he was often in there, finally able to afford nice paint and brushes for once in his long life. It had taken some time since he was rusty, but he eventually started producing pieces he was proud of again. Bucky hung them throughout the apartment, a few having been hung in Bucky's own place before he had moved in with Steve last month. The paintings were all mostly landscapes; a park, the city's skyline, things like that. Steve's sketchbooks were another story, over the past months they had slowly been filled with drawings of Bucky, who had no qualms about posing for Steve, nude or otherwise.

The soft padding of Bucky's footsteps pulled Steve out of his thoughts and he turned on his stool just in time for Bucky to poke his head into the room.

“Hey handsome, dinner's almost ready,” Bucky said, smiling brightly.

“I'll be there in a moment.”

Bucky left without another word, leaving Steve to set aside his brushes and step back to look at the painting he was currently working on. It was a gift for Clint, he was using a picture of Clint's dog Lucky as reference, Natasha insisted Steve paint it for Clint's upcoming birthday. Steve stretched, smiling lightly before leaving the room, turning the light out on his way.

The Queen record that Bucky had gifted Steve all those months ago was playing lowly in the background when Steve walked into the living room. Bucky's laptop and notes were covering the coffee table where he had been working on the cookbook he was publishing. In the kitchen Bucky was swaying to the music as he cooked, hair pulled away from his face. Steve found himself pausing, standing in the middle of his apartment, that months ago, felt only like a place to live, but hardly a home. Now however, with evidence of his life with Bucky strewn about, Steve found his heart fluttering. He watched Bucky, still unaware that Steve was in the room, as he bounced to the music, humming to himself, Steve sighed, so perfectly content.

He walked into the kitchen, surprising Bucky when he turned him to press himself against this boyfriend, stooping to place a kiss on his lips.

“Oh hey there,” Bucky breathed when Steve pulled back, he had one hand on Steve's chest, the other still holding the spoon he was using.

“I love you,” Steve said simply, smiling down at Bucky who gaped at him.

Steve watched as Bucky's face morphed from shock to joy. The spoon clattered to the stove as Bucky dropped it to throw his arms around Steve's neck pressing their lips together roughly.

“I love you too you fucking punk.” Bucky laughed when he finally pulled back.

They stood together for some time, Bucky having turned off the stove so supper wouldn't burn, the room fell to silence as the current song ended. When the next one cycled one the two men burst into a fit of laughter as Freddie Mercury's smooth voice filled the apartment:

 

“ _Caaaaaaan, anybodyyyyyy find meeeeeeeee, somebody tooooooo loooooooove?”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, Bucky has a frenum piercing, in case anyone was curious. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I always love comments as usual.  
> Come visit me on Tumblr @ deepspaceprincess!  
> I hope you all enjoyed it, thank you for reading friends!


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